All I've Ever Learned From Love
by DawnieS
Summary: Henry begs, and Regina caves. But all it takes is one act of misplaced faith, and the residents of Storybrooke find themselves facing true Evil. And this time the Savior isn't there to rescue them.
1. Through the Portal

All I've Ever Learned From Love

Summary: Henry begs, and Regina caves. But all it takes is one act of misplaced faith, and the residents of Storybrooke find themselves facing true Evil. And this time the Savior isn't there to rescue them.

* * *

_Maybe there's a God above  
But all I've ever learned from love  
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you  
It's not a cry you can hear at night  
It's not somebody who has seen the light  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

_- Leonard Cohen, "Hallelujah"  
_

Chapter One: Through the Portal

Her mother had always said that love was a weakness.

"Mom? You're not helping Emma and Mary Margaret, are you?" Henry's voice was small, hurt. Underneath the anger, Regina could see the disappointment and confusion. He wanted her to deny the accusation, wanted her to say something that would prove she was still on their side.

But she had never been on their side. She had only ever been on _his_ side, even if he was far too young to understand the distinction.

"I'm helping _you_, Henry," Regina said, taking a wary step forward.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're going to kill them!" Ruby interjected, and there was no confusion in her tone. The complexities of the situation were lost on her – she didn't know Cora, and she didn't know that Cora was trying to find a way back to Storybrooke. All she saw was the Evil Queen once again standing between Snow White and Prince Charming.

"Sorry, dearie," Gold said abruptly, and pointed his wand at the brunette werewolf.

Ruby went flying through the air and landed on the soft ground with a heavy thud, instantly unconscious. Harry gaped at her and then at Gold, but it took only a moment before his eyes snapped back to Regina, and he looked up at her with such betrayal.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

"We can't let Cora come through the portal," Regina answered, her own fear seeping into her words. She did not want to needlessly frighten her son, but he had to accept that Cora was not a threat to be so easily dismissed. "You have _no idea_ what she would do to us."

But Henry was a child, and too firmly entrenched in the naïve idea of the inevitable triumph of Good. He shook his head in denial, and nearly shouted, "Emma and Mary Margaret are going to defeat her. They're the ones that are going to come through!"

"Henry, your mother is right," Gold countered. "It's going to be Cora."

"No, it won't!" Henry retorted, his eyes still locked on Regina. "Good _always_ defeats Evil; you should know that better than anyone."

Regina desperately wanted to believe that. Her life would have turned out quite differently had that been the case. But she had seen her dreams destroyed too many times as a child and young adult to trust that this would be any different. The agents of Good saved many, but not her. Never her.

And they certainly had never rescued _anyone_ from her mother.

She'd been the Evil Queen - and Cora's daughter - for far too long to know how to have faith in Good.

But she _did_ know her mother.

"What I know," Regina said, bending down to Henry's level, "is that my mother will destroy everything I love. And that means _you_." She paused for a moment, hoping that Henry would understand this, even though some part of her doubted he ever would. "And I can't let that happen."

Henry gazed up at her, then jerked away. "You can't!" he shouted frantically. "Stop it! You're going to kill them!"

Regina grabbed his arm and held onto him tightly even as he struggled in her grasp. She could feel the burn of tears in her eyes, hating that she was causing him pain. If there was a happy ending for him here, she would seize it in an instant, even if it meant she would lose everything, if only he would stop looking at her as though his entire world was about to crumble.

"No!" Henry begged. "They're going to make it through. We have to turn it off, you're going to kill them!"

He shoved past her and raced towards the well, his eyes fixed on the shimmering green magic. Regina spun around, fear filling her at the sight of her son reaching out towards what would undoubtedly kill him. The fear paralyzed her, but only for a moment, and then she rushed after Henry and dragged him backwards, towards safety.

"Henry!" she cried out, her fear making her tone far sharper than she had intended. "What are you doing?"

"Emma and Mary Margaret are going to come through. I _know_ it," Henry declared with all the confidence and belief that seemed to be the prerogative of children.

Regina shook her head mutely. He didn't know it. _Couldn't_ know it. And she did not have his faith.

"You said you wanted to change, to be better," Henry pressed, grabbing her arms. "This is how. You want me to have faith in you? Then have faith in _me_."

For a moment, Regina simply stood there, staring at her son. She could feel the tears escaping from her eyes and slipping down her cheeks, could feel the tumultuous emotions inside her. In Henry's eyes she saw his own conflict – his desire to believe in her tempered by everything he knew she had done in the past.

She pulled away, stepped back, then slowly turned her gaze towards the well.

"Regina," Gold said, a warning in his voice.

But she ignored him. She did not have faith in Good, but she did have faith in Henry – and more than that, she loved him. She loved him enough to give up her magic for him, to try to become a completely different person because he wanted it. She could do this for him, too.

She stopped at the well and extended her arms on either side. The magic flickered once, twice, then jumped from the well to her skin. It burned as it raced up her arms and into her chest, filling the emptiness inside of her with its power. She gasped and choked back a scream as the pain increased and the pressure built up behind her closed eyes.

She could feel _everything_. The ground slowly moving beneath her feet as the Earth circled the sun, the wind rushing through the trees and rattling the branches above them, the hum of life and death playing out all around her.

_This_ was power.

And then it was gone, and she was empty and cold.

She stumbled away from the well and collapsed against the nearby tree, unable to stay upright. She grabbed at the bark, her skin scraping against its rough edges as she fell ungracefully to her hands and knees. The ground was wet, and she could feel the dampness seeping into her clothing.

She looked towards Henry, but he was looking at the well. Waiting.

And there was nothing but silence.

"I'm sorry," Regina whispered. "Henry, I'm so…"

And then she heard it.

The scrape of something against stone, the faint rustle of fabric, the whisper of magic draining away as the portal closed, sealing off the passage between worlds.

A hand appeared at the top of the well, fingers curling to grip the stones.

And Cora climbed into view.

Regina closed her eyes against Henry's shouted protest, against Gold's angry hiss of breath, against Cora's so familiar triumphant smirk.

Her mother had always said that love was a weakness.

* * *

"Emma, are you alright?"

Emma nodded and pushed herself from the sand, one hand touching her chest in surprise and bewilderment. "Yes, I… how…?" She couldn't finish the question. She couldn't even think of what to _ask_.

Cora had tried to rip her heart out. Well, she'd tried to rip out Mary Margaret's heart, and had ended up with her hand in Emma's chest instead.

And yet…

Mary Margaret shook her head. "I don't know," she said quietly, a hint of awe in her voice. "She wasn't able to rip out your heart. It must be… you have some kind of magic."

Emma frowned. "Well, it didn't do us any good," she said somewhat bitterly.

Whatever magic she had inside her had succeeded in throwing Cora away from her, but the witch had merely risen back to her feet and telekinetically tossed Emma aside. She'd snatched up her compass and stepped into the portal without a backwards glance, leaving Mary Margaret and Emma behind.

She'd left Hook as well.

"That magic, whatever it was, saved your life," Mary Margaret retorted fiercely, wrapping Emma into an embrace. "I consider _that_ to be good."

Emma let out a long breath. "But Cora still beat us," she said in resignation, waving her hand to where the portal had been only moments before. It was gone now, and Cora with it. "She… she's in Storybrooke by now. With Henry."

"We'll find a way back," Mary Margaret replied determinedly. "And Henry will be safe until we do."

"Yeah?" Emma snapped, pulling away from her mother and kicking at the sand. "And who is going to protect him? David's in an enchanted sleep, isn't he?"

Mary Margaret's faced paled for a moment at that reminder of her husband trapped in a nightmare, but then she said simply, "Regina."

"Regina is the _cause_ of all of this!" Emma snapped, unwilling to believe that Mary Margaret would put that kind of faith in someone who had continually tried to ruin both their lives. "She's the one who cast the curse in the first place!"

"I know," Mary Margaret answered calmly, "but do you honestly believe that she won't do everything she can to protect Henry?"

"Like giving him a poisoned apple turnover?" Emma demanded.

Mary Margaret sighed. "Emma…," she said softly, placing a hand on her daughter's arm, "I don't like this any more than you do. The last thing I want to do is put any faith in Regina. But we don't have a choice. We aren't in Storybrooke, and Cora _is_, and Regina is the only one who can protect Henry right now." She smiled sardonically as she added, "Unless you think Rumpelstiltskin is going to do it?"

The absurdity of that comment brought a dark chuckle to Emma's lips.

Then the blonde rubbed at her eyes and nodded slowly. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew her mother was probably right about this. She wanted to hate Regina for everything – she _did_ hate Regina for a lot. She had seen the castle, she had seen the room that should have been her nursery, and she had finally accepted that, without Regina's desire for revenge, she would have grown up with two loving parents instead of a succession of cold and unwelcoming foster families. After years of believing that her parents had abandoned her, that she had been unwanted and unloved, she was now faced with the truth that they had done everything they could to save her from the curse, to give her the best chance possible.

Like she had done for Henry, when she'd given him up for adoption.

Regina was to blame for so much, and it would be so easy to believe that there was nothing good in her. But Emma had seen the real pain and love in Regina's eyes as Henry lay in a coma in the hospital, and she knew that, despite everything the Mayor had done in the past, she wouldn't simply stand by and let Henry come to harm.

And yet one question still remained – was Regina strong enough to stop Cora?

She had no time to muse on that, however, as Hook began to stir.

Mary Margaret reacted quickly, drawing an arrow and fitting it to her bow. She pointed it at him and waited, ready to attack if the need arose.

Hook opened his eyes and blinked a few times to clear away the grit. His gaze swept over everything, taking in the scene and Cora's absence, and then his lips curled into a snarl.

"That's right," Emma said with a mocking smirk. "She left you. I guess you served your purpose, and she had no more need for you."

Hook rose unsteadily to his feet. Mary Margaret tensed, and he held out his arms in an appeasing manner. "Easy, lass," he said calmly, eyes darting back and forth between the two women. "You wouldn't want to do anything rash, would you?"

"Actually," Emma replied dryly, "I really, _really_ would."

"And ruin your only chance to get home to that precious child of yours?"

"That chance was already ruined," Emma answered angrily, gesturing to where the portal used to be. "Now don't make any sudden movements or Mary Margaret will use you for target practice. And take it from me… she is a _very_ good shot."

Hook shook his head in obvious amusement. "Oh, pretending to be brave," he remarked casually, "very good." He looked at Mary Margaret for a moment, then returned his attention to Emma and said, "What if I told you that I knew of another way to your world?"

"You're lying," Emma said quickly, sharply.

"Always quick to assume everyone else is lying, aren't you?" Hook taunted. "You couldn't possibly take the chance that I am telling the truth. You can't take a chance on anyone_,_ you're far too afraid of getting hurt_._"

Mary Margaret pulled back on the arrow.

"You betrayed us to Cora!"

"Betrayed?" Hook laughed outright. "You mean like locking you up after you had helped to retrieve the compass?" He affected a look of puzzlement, then said, "Oh, wait… that is what _you_ did to _me_."

"You joined Cora. You took Aurora's heart."

"_After_ your little stunt with the handcuffs, lass," Hook replied easily. "I told you that all I wanted was to get revenge on Rumpelstiltskin for what he took from me. Our goals aligned. I could have helped you." He paused, then added delicately, "Besides, I returned the heart, didn't I? You really should have trusted me."

"Trust you?" Mary Margaret repeated in disbelief. "You don't care about us, and there was nothing to stop you from betraying us at any moment. You joined Cora first, then you joined us when we caught you, then you joined Cora _again_. You _told_ us you were willing to give your allegiance to whomever could get you to Storybrooke!"

"_Exactly_," Hook answered with a firm nod, "and I told you that I thought you had the far better chance. Together, we could have found a way back." He waved his hand towards the remains of the lake and said, "But then you betrayed me and left me with no option but to return to Cora, and here we are. None of us won."

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Emma growled. Slanting a look at Mary Margaret, she said, "I say you just shoot him."

"But I still have a way back to Storybrooke," Hook said lightly. "Don't you want to hear it?"

"What possible reason could we have to trust you?" Emma demanded.

"It all comes back to trust, doesn't it?" Hook said, a smile curling his lips. "You clearly _think_ you can't trust me, and I _know_ that I can't trust you. But the three of us are here, and Cora is on her way back to Storybrooke… to your son."

Emma hesitated, and exchanged a quick look with Mary Margaret, neither of them thrilled with the prospect of joining forces with the pirate once more. Every instinct of Emma's screamed at her not to trust him, but given everything, could she really afford not to at least listen to what he had to say?

"Fine," Emma said, silently praying that she wasn't going to regret this. "What's this plan?"

Hook's smile grew to a smirk and he held out his hand, displaying a desiccated bean.

"The bean doesn't have magic anymore," Emma said, frowning at the bean. "You told us that all the magical beans were destroyed by the giants."

"True," Hook agreed, "but the waters of Lake Nostos have _quite_ unique powers."

Mary Margaret sucked in a breath. "Yes," she whispered, excitement coloring her voice. She loosened her grip on the bow and arrow slightly and turned to Emma. "Yes, he's right. This could work."

"So we plant a bean and it grows into a beanstalk that we climb to get to Storybrooke?" Emma asked skeptically. The idea sounded ridiculous in her head, and saying it aloud had not helped matters any. But she was a stranger to this land, and if Mary Margaret thought this could work, she knew better than to argue.

"Not quite," Hook said.

Before he could elaborate on his plan, however, Mary Margaret cut in skeptically, "What is in this for you?"

"I _told_ you…" Hook started, impatience creeping into his tone.

"I know why you want to get to Storybrooke," Mary Margaret said dismissively, "but why do you need our help?"

"Well, that is quite simple," Hook replied, curling his fingers around the bean and tucking it away out of sight. "I can sail my own ship, but it would go a lot more smoothly if I had a crew." He gave Emma a once over and added, "And I can't think of anyone else I'd rather take with me."

"Your ship?" Emma asked before Mary Margaret could protest Hook blatant leer. She could already tell her mother was bristling in response to the pirate's lascivious stare, and although watching Mary Margaret shoot Hook might relieve some of her frustration at the entire situation, Emma knew it wouldn't be helpful in the long run.

And besides, she didn't need Mary Margaret to intervene on her behalf. She was capable of fighting her own battles, particularly those that were fought with words.

Or guns.

"Yes," Hook drawled, "my ship. I will use the bean to open a portal in the middle of the ocean, and we will sail to your world."

"Sail? You're just going to…" Emma glanced over at Mary Margaret, and demanded in bewilderment, "You can _sail_ between worlds?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "Apparently." She gave Hook a hard look and said, "But that would require getting to the sea… and to your ship. How long would that take?"

Hook glanced behind him towards the forest with a thoughtful expression. "A couple days, assuming we don't run into any trouble. And that is a _big_ assumption. Another day to ready the ship and sail far enough away from the land to open the portal."

"So Cora will be in Storybrooke for three days before we get there," Emma said.

"And that is the best case scenario. But there's not much you can do about that now, lass," Hook replied flatly. "My way is far faster than any other you will find."

Mary Margaret drew Emma aside. "What do you think?" she whispered.

"I honestly don't know," Emma replied, not taking her eyes off of the pirate.

Her first instinct was to refuse his help. Placing her trust in people had rarely worked out in her favor in the past, and her default position was one of suspicion. But, Emma reasoned, Cora was on her way to Storybrooke, and Henry was there, and if Hook could get them back to her world…

What choice did she really have?


	2. When the Smoke Clears

Chapter Two: When the Smoke Clears

Cora had not changed at all.

It had been years since Regina had seen her mother alive, and she had only spent a few brief moments looking at her mother's supposedly dead body twenty-nine years ago. Some part of her had expected that her mother would have changed – grown older, perhaps, or at least mellowed.

But everything about her from the clothing she wore to the way she carried herself to the constantly calculating look in her eyes was exactly the same, and Regina felt as though she was a child again, caught up in her mother's web.

She was numb. This couldn't be happening. After everything she had built for herself, and everything she had subsequently lost, was her mother really here to take away what little she had left?

But then, it was her own fault, wasn't it? She had allowed her love for Henry to cloud her judgment. Her mother would be dead now, and Henry safe, if only she hadn't listened to that treacherous part of her soul that wanted to believe in love and Good and happy endings.

Happy endings didn't exist – not for people like her. And certainly not now, not with her mother here.

"No! Where are they?! What did you do to Mary Margaret and Emma?" Henry cried, rushing forwards.

It was his voice that spurred Regina into action, and she just barely managed to catch hold of him before he could approach her mother. He struggled in her grip, but she held him tightly, refusing to let go.

Cora wiped her hands on her dress and looked around coolly, taking in the scene, before turning to her daughter.

"Regina," she said.

"Mother," Regina answered quietly, no emotion in her voice.

"Is that all you have to say?" Cora asked, stepping forward. "It's been nearly thirty years, my darling, and you _did_ send a pirate to kill me."

"He failed," Regina commented.

"Indeed." Cora looked down at Henry. "And this must be Henry. My… grandson?" Her gaze flicked up to Regina's face and she said, "Emma did say that you two… shared… him."

Regina's fingers tightened on Henry's shoulders and she saw him wince. She wanted to loosen her grip, but she couldn't force her hands to obey her mental commands. They were acting of their own volition, as though her subconscious was afraid that if she relaxed for even a moment, her mother would snatch Henry away.

"What did you do to Emma and Mary Margaret?" Henry demanded.

Regina interceded quickly, unwilling to allow her mother's attention to drift to the boy she so desperately needed to protect. "Henry, be quiet," she said, her voice firm and unyielding.

Cora smiled at Regina, a cold smile that did not reach her eyes. But then she turned away from her daughter and glanced over at Gold. "And Rumpelstiltskin, too. Quite the reunion." She paused for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry, my dear, but I don't believe we've met."

Regina glanced over her shoulder, and followed her mother's gaze to see Ruby rising unsteadily from the ground. The werewolf froze the moment Cora's gaze fixed on her, her own eyes wary, her stance tense.

"What did you do to Emma?" Henry said again, his voice quieter but no less angry. Regina sighed inwardly – why did he have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't he for once listen to her and stay quiet?

"Nothing," Cora replied, looking between Regina and Henry. "She and Snow are still in our land. With Hook."

It seemed all Gold was waiting for was confirmation of Hook's absence, because the moment Cora finished the sentence Regina felt the ripple of magic. She did not see Gold point the wand, but the air around her crackled with energy that coursed directly towards her mother.

Something inside Regina twisted. This, she knew, was the moment to run. Leave Gold and Cora to battle each other and escape to relative safety with Henry. The boy had slumped against her at Cora's proclamation that Emma and Mary Margaret were still trapped on the other side of the portal, and hopefully it wouldn't take much to pull him away.

And yet…

She could still feel the instinctual pull, the desire to help her mother. To protect her. To love her, and be loved in return. Even after all this time, _that_ had not gone away.

Cora raised her hand and the air shimmered green, a force-field appearing to deflect Gold's attack. The two magics slammed into each other and rebounded, crashing into the trees and stirring up the leaves on the ground. Regina stumbled backwards, still holding Henry tightly, the breath nearly knocked out of her chest.

"So there is magic in this land," Cora said, gazing down at her hand with a contemplative expression. "Well, that is… not what I had expected."

Then she flicked her wrist at Gold and a tidal wave of power came crashing down on all of them.

Regina's reaction was immediate and automatic. She extended a hand to protect herself and Henry. But the power she had absorbed from the well still resided in her veins, and she was rusty with magic after twenty-eight years of not using it, and magic was unpredictable in this land anyway. She felt the flare of heat as her mother's magic smashed into her own shield, and the resulting flash of light was bright enough to momentarily blind her.

She lurched sideways, still holding onto Henry with one hand, and her shoulder slammed against a tree trunk. She winced and bit back a cry of pain. Spots danced in front of her eyes.

"Mom? Mom!"

It was Henry's panicked voice that roused her once again, forcing her to think past the pain in her shoulder and the pressure of the magic-laden air all around her.

"Mom, I can't see. It hurts," she heard him whimper.

She blinked several times to clear her vision and clambered back to her feet. She pulled Henry into her side, hugging him tightly. She wanted to reassure him, wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright, but the words wouldn't come.

A hand grabbed at her arm and she turned, ready to attack, but it was only Ruby.

The werewolf was bleeding from a long gash on her forehead, and there were bruises on her pale skin. "What did you do?" she demanded.

There was a strange ringing in Regina's ears that made it hard to think, and so she was only able to give Ruby a blank stare. The question didn't even make sense to her – what had she done? Her thoughts were jumbled, confused… tired.

"They're gone," Ruby said.

"What?" Regina asked, glancing around. Sure enough, both her mother and Gold were gone. "I don't…how?"

"The woman… she did something," Ruby said. "A magic spell. Then you did something, and the result… it tore up the ground and I felt… like everything was collapsing in on me. I saw the woman get hit by a… a backlash, and she just sort of… disappeared. And then when I looked over at Gold, he was gone, too."

Regina straightened and released her hold on her son. Breathing slowly to calm her panic, she allowed herself a moment to truly survey the scene.

The well had been torn apart, and only a semi-circle of it remained. Pieces of rock littered the ground, as did branches of the surrounding trees. The underbrush had been ripped loose and flung about, and several large stones appeared to have been shattered. The air was still heavy with the remnants of the magic that had been used, like the gathering of humidity before a storm.

"What did you do?" Henry asked, wide-eyed and frightened.

"I only tried to raise a shield, to protect us," Regina answered softly, speaking more to herself than to either her son or the werewolf. Although both knew a bit about magic, she doubted either of them truly understood how unpredictable and uncontrollable such power was in this world.

"This was more than a shield," Ruby said dryly.

Regina gave her an annoyed look. "I had just absorbed a tremendous amount of deadly magic from the portal, Miss Lucas. I wasn't able to control it." She glanced down at Henry with a softer look, noting with an inward grimace his expression of hurt and distrust, before adding, "Besides, the shield worked well enough."

"It tore apart the well and nearly destroyed the clearing," Ruby hissed.

"It protected Henry," Regina countered. She turned to Henry, speaking to him directly and ignoring Ruby altogether, "I know I promised that I wouldn't use magic anymore, Henry, but you have to understand, I just… reacted. You were in danger. I needed to keep you safe, and I was willing to use magic to do it."

Henry looked at her, then looked around the clearing. Instead of answering her defense, he asked in a tiny voice, "Does this mean Emma and Mary Margaret aren't coming back?"

Regina forced back the annoyance at the question – did he always have to be thinking of the blonde? – and said as gently as possible, "Well, they are alive. My mother said she just left them in our land, and I don't think she was lying, so…"

"That was your _mother_?" Ruby cut in incredulously.

Regina sent her another irritated look. "Yes," she replied in a clipped tone. She had no desire to discuss her personal life with anyone, least of all one of Snow's old friends.

Before Ruby could respond, Henry scrambled away from both woman and raced towards the well. Regina spun around, feeling a flash of irrational panic as Henry moved away from her, but the words of admonishment died on her lips as she saw him staring into the well with a desperately hopeful expression.

He was waiting for Emma to climb out.

"The portal is closed, Henry," Regina said, trying - and likely failing - to sound sympathetic and gentle. "Miss Swan and Miss Blanchard are not going to come through it."

"But… but they have to," Henry whispered, tears pooling in his eyes.

Regina sighed. If the situation had been reversed, would her absence have driven Henry to tears? Some bitter part of her thought not - Henry had so effortlessly given his love to Emma, and it often felt like he did not have any left over for her.

But, she reminded herself, Henry _had_ asked Emma to protect her from the angry mob that had stormed her house when the curse had first broken.

It wasn't the right time to dwell on this, though, because she had far bigger problems. "We need to return to the town," she said. "I am sure Gold is already back there, and my mother might be as well."

"We don't know what happened to her," Ruby said with some distaste. "What makes you think she's even still alive? Your magic could have killed her."

Regina shook her head, once again torn between relief and horror at the idea. She was willing to send Hook to kill her mother, or even to lend her magic to Gold so that he could create a deadly trap on the portal, but to actually kill Cora herself…

No, she didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to consider the possibility that she might have been the one to strike the fatal blow.

Then she blinked, coming to her senses, and said derisively, "You underestimate my mother, Miss Lucas. And that is _never_ a good idea." She straightened her blouse and smoothed out the wrinkles in her pants, an nervous habit leftover from childhood that she had never quite gotten rid of, and said, "Henry, you will be safest at home. _My_ home."

"I thought Henry was staying with David," Ruby countered pointedly, suspicion once again creeping into her tone.

"Yes, but David is currently in an enchanted sleep, so he isn't going to be much protection for my son, is he?" Regina snapped back, annoyed. Why did this insufferable woman have to keep interfering? She didn't have time to waste on these questions because, no matter what Ruby thought, Regina was positive there was no way her mother had been killed.

Cora was far too strong - and too cunning - for that.

"We can't just leave Emma and Mary Margaret!" Henry protested. "We have to help them. You _promised_ you would help them!"

Regina hesitated, then walked over to Henry and knelt in the dirt before him. "And I will," she answered. "I will keep working on this, Henry. I will find another way to bring them back." Behind her, Ruby made a noise of clear disbelief, but Regina ignored her and pressed onwards, "But things are different now that my mother is here. She will come after you, I know she will. And I can't rescue Miss Swan and Miss Blanchard if I have to worry about your safety at the same time. So I need you to come back with me, come back to our house, and promise me that you will stay there."

Henry hesitated, then asked hopefully, "If I promise that, then you promise that you will find a way to bring them back?"

It hurt. It hurt knowing that her son would only agree to this if she swore to rescue the two women who had ruined her life. It hurt seeing that, even now, there was distrust in his eyes as he looked at her, as though he was simply waiting for her to turn back to evil.

But Henry was asking this, and there was only one answer she could give.

"Yes," Regina replied. "I promise."

Henry nodded, and with one last reluctant look at the well, he allowed Regina to pull him away.

"Do you really expect us to trust you?" Ruby questioned, falling into step alongside Regina. "How do we know that this wasn't some elaborate scheme you concocted with your mother?"

Regina rolled her eyes. "How exactly would I have plotted this with my mother when she was in a completely different world?"

"You have magic," Ruby replied. "And I find it convenient that your mother managed to defeat Snow and Emma…"

"My mother defeated them because her power rivals that of Gold's," Regina interrupted. "Your dear Mary Margaret and her daughter do not have magic, which means that they never stood a chance against her. No other reason."

Ruby lapsed into silence for a moment, and Regina frowned at her own words. Jefferson's hat had only worked once Emma had touched her arm, and although she did not particularly like to dwell on it, even she could not deny that in that moment she had felt the power residing within Emma's veins. The blonde did have some sort of magic – but that did not mean that she would be able to use it.

And it did not mean that she was stronger than Cora.

Regina glanced down at Henry who was walking in sullen silence. She saw no reason to reveal Emma's inherent magic to him, or to Ruby. She hadn't told Gold about it, either, and David was apparently to thick to realize what he had seen the night his wife and daughter had been pulled into the hat. So no one else knew about Emma's ability, and for now, Regina would keep it that way.

All magic came with a price, and Emma would no doubt have to pay one eventually. Regina was even a bit curious to see what that price would be. But at the moment, the less people who knew of it, the better.

"Mom?" Henry asked suddenly.

"Yes?"

"If David is in an enchanted sleep, he can't protect himself. What if your mother tries to hurt him?"

"I doubt my mother would be much interested in him," Regina replied truthfully.

"Yes, but what if she _is_?" Henry pressed. "Can we… can he stay with us? In the guest room? I mean…he's just sleeping, so he won't be in the way or anything. And you can keep him safe until Mary Margaret comes back."

Regina curled her lip in dislike of the idea and said as neutrally as possible, "He is currently in Gold's shop, Henry. He will be perfectly safe there."

Henry stopped walking, forcing Regina and Ruby to stop as well. "But…," he hesitated for a moment, then said in a rush, "I trust you more than I trust Mr. Gold." Again, he paused, then added, "Please, Mom?"

Regina closed her eyes. "Fine," she agreed, knowing that it would be the only way to get Henry to keep up his part of the deal. She opened her eyes in time to see Ruby give her a surprised look. "What?" she snapped.

"How do you plan on protecting them?" Ruby asked.

"Not that it is any of your concern, Miss Lucas, but I can set up a spell around my house," Regina replied. "With a little bit of work I should be able to make it strong enough to keep my mother out. Or, at least, slow her down."

"More magic?" Ruby demanded sharply. "I thought you promised Henry you weren't going to use your magic?"

Regina pressed her lips into a thin line. "I am doing it to protect him," she said coldly.

"Even if it isn't what he wants?"

"I'm his mother. My responsibility is to protect him, and that comes first."

"I'm right here," Henry interjected. "You don't have to talk about me like I'm not present."

Ruby ignored him and said, "A spell strong enough to keep out your mother would keep out everyone else as well. Are we supposed to believe that you aren't just trying to isolate Henry? To keep him locked up so that when Snow and Emma come back…"

"You are not his mother so this is hardly any of your concern," Regina hissed, and she started walking again, pulling Henry behind her.

"_Of course _it is my concern. Snow and David would want me to look after their grandson, and I owe them that. I owe Emma that, too. And besides, you say your mother is powerful, but it was _your_ magic that spun out of control. I don't know what kind of woman your mother is, but I've seen the things that you've done and…"

Regina dropped Henry's hand, spun around, and slammed Ruby into the nearest tree. She heard Henry protesting, and saw the fury burning in Ruby's eyes, but none of it mattered. "I was in love," she said, her words quiet, but shaking with barely controlled rage. "I was young, and I had met _my_ true love, _my_ happy ending, but my mother thought he made me _weak_, so she ripped his heart out and crushed it in front of me. _That_ is the kind of woman my mother is." She paused, took a breath, then said, "So I am going to do absolutely everything possible to keep her away from my son."

Ruby was silent as the anger drained from her eyes, replaced by a look of pity that Regina loathed but was too exhausted to comment on. For a moment, it appeared the werewolf was going to say something sympathetic, but perhaps the look of anger on Regina's face made her hold her tongue. Or maybe it was some sixth sense that told her how unwelcome her pity would be.

Whatever the reason, Ruby merely said, "Well, okay then."

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Leroy said, looking between Ruby and Regina in complete bewilderment, "you want to move the prince and Henry into the Evil Queen's house, and then allow her to put up a magical barrier that will keep out the entire town? After she already stole all the fairy dust?"

Regina resisted the urge to simply ignore the dwarf. It wasn't as though she needed his permission, and it was quite laughable that he was even standing defensively in front of Gold's shop as though he could stop her.

"It's fine, Leroy," Ruby said. "Regina explained it to me. She was actually trying to protect Henry. And she's trying to protect him now, too. This is for the best."

Regina wasn't entirely sure what surprised her more: Ruby's casual use of her first name or defense of her actions. However, Leroy did not look convinced, and continued his disgruntled muttering.

Regina glanced away from Ruby and Leroy and looked instead at Henry. He had lapsed into silence during the walk back to Regina's car, and had been quiet on the ride over to Gold's shop as well. She had been expecting more questions for him, or proposed plans with ridiculous codenames, or even protests about how Emma and Mary Margaret should have come through the portal. The unusual silence unnerved her.

The expression on his face was one of bewilderment. He looked… _lost_, she decided.

"I don't like this," Leroy grumbled, his voice loud enough to pull Regina from her concerned thoughts.

She huffed in annoyance, "I don't particularly like it either, dwarf," she snapped, her patience growing thin. "Believe me, the last thing I want to do right now is play house with Charming. But I promised Henry, and I have no intention of breaking that promise, so I suggest you get out of my way."

"You're not the queen or the mayor anymore, sister," Leroy shot back, unimpressed by her temper. "You don't get to give orders."

There was magic itching underneath her skin, and all it would take was one simply flick of her wrist to…

"Mom?" Henry asked suddenly, his voice shaking slightly, "why are your hands _glowing_?"

Regina glanced down at her hands with a frown. Sure enough, they were pulsating with a strange green light. She was dimly aware of Leroy taking a step back from her and felt a small spark of vindication at the knowledge that he was at least still afraid of her magic, but Henry was holding her wrist suddenly and she knew she couldn't afford to lose control here.

She took a slow breath and willed her anger to recede.

"Sorry, dear," she apologized. "It must be an aftereffect of all the magic I absorbed at the portal. I imagine it will go away soon enough."

At least, she hoped it would. If she couldn't control her magic, there was no possible way she would be able to place the protection spell around her house.

Henry nodded, though he looked less than convinced.

Regina turned back to Leroy. "Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do."

The dwarf gave Regina a resentful look, but at a nod from Ruby, he ungracefully stepped aside, allowing her entrance to Gold's shop. Regina walked by him without a word, pulling Henry with her.

She could hear the voices of the other dwarves in the back room, but Gold himself was nowhere to be seen. He had not returned to his shop, and although she had no desire to waste time worrying over his wellbeing, she couldn't stop the tiniest bit of concern from creeping into her mind. She was convinced that he had not been killed by her outburst of magic, but what if he had been injured? She would shed no tears over _that_, of course, but she rather hoped he was still well enough to help her stop her mother.

The imp could hardly be trusted on any other matter, but on _this_ they were united.

"Where is the fairy dust? What did you do with it?"

"If you hurt Snow and Emma…"

"Where are they?"

The questions and accusations assaulted her the moment she stepped into the back room. She gave the dwarves a disinterested look, and then focused on David. The prince was still asleep, lying pale and nearly lifeless on the bed.

"Snow and Emma didn't come through the portal," Ruby said, stepping into the room. She nodded her head at Regina and added, "But her mother did."

"The witch has a _mother_?"

Regina wasn't sure which of the dwarves had spoken, so she fixed them all with a cold stare and said derisively, "I see the breaking of the curse has caused you all to regress to your previous levels of dwarfish stupidity. Or perhaps your cursed personalities were just as stupid as your magical ones?"

"Regina!" Ruby admonished, but Regina ignored her. She did not answer to some self-righteous werewolf who apparently thought she was now responsible for the town until the beloved Savior returned or David awoke.

"_Of course_ I have a mother," she continued. "I'm not a dwarf; I didn't hatch from a giant egg."

Before any of the dwarves could respond, Ruby said briskly, "We need to take David to Regina's house. She can protect him from his mother."

"Yeah? And who is going to protect him from her?" Leroy demanded, nodding at Regina.

"Grumpy's right. You can't trust her."

"She'll just hurt the prince."

"I assure you, if I had any intention of hurting David, I would have done it already," Regina snapped. She would have said more, but Henry took that opportunity to detach himself from her grasp and knelt down in front of David, holding tightly to his grandfather's hand. His head was bent forward and his shoulders were slumped in defeat and, again, Regina felt her unease grow.

She could protect her son, and she could do her best to bring Emma and Mary Margaret back to Storybrooke, but something _else_ was wrong...

And she didn't what it was or how to fix it.

"I'm not suggesting that we all suddenly trust her," Ruby said, and Regina forced herself to turn away from her son and focus on whatever the werewolf was saying.

"What are you suggesting, then?" one of the dwarves demanded.

"We will work _with_ Regina to keep David and Henry safe," Ruby said. "We're not going to let her make unilateral decisions..." She trailed off and fixed Regina with a challenging stare. "I'll let you take Henry..."

"You'll _let_ me?" Regina interrupted, scoffing at the very notion that Ruby could actually _stop_ her.

Ruby continued as though Regina had not even spoken, "But you _aren't_ going to keep him away from us. Whatever your plan is, we get input. We get a say in how this... conflict... with your mother goes down."

"And if I refuse?" Regina questioned sardonically.

"We beat you once," Ruby replied, "we can do it again."

"Do you really think I am going to fall for the same trick again?" Regina shot back, a smirk on her lips. "Fairy dust won't work on me this time, so I think you'll find, _dear_, that I am not that easy to defeat."

Ruby crossed her arms over her chest and replied with a smirk of her own, "Maybe not. But if your mother is as powerful and dangerous as you seem to think she is, can you really afford to fight us and her at the same time?"

And that was a question to which Regina could not reply.


	3. Preparations

Chapter Three: Preparations

Dinner was a somber affair.

Ruby had finally convinced the dwarves that they had no choice but to work with Regina on this matter, and they had helped to carry David to Regina's car. Ruby and Doc had dragged the prince's body up to the guest room on the second floor of Regina's house, and tucked him safely into the bed. They had then departed, though not before Ruby had made it clear that she _would_ be returning in a few hours – and that she would tear Regina apart should any harm befall David or Henry while they were in her care.

Regina hadn't bothered to respond, but instead busied herself making dinner for her son and setting the table.

Henry pushed the food around on his plate and stared glumly at the pristine tablecloth. He had smoothed out the napkin on his lap, but reached down every now and then to twist it idly, clearly distracted.

"Don't you like the lasagna?" Regina asked.

Henry took a bite of the noodles, but it was an automatic response to her prompting. He chewed silently, then asked, "When are you going to do the protection spell?"

"I need to do a little bit of research first," Regina replied. "But I'll cast it before I go to bed tonight." She drummed her fingers on the table, searching for something else to say. She did not particularly want to go into the details of the spell – Henry's fascination with magic and heroes and danger was already troubling to her – but she was tempted to ignore her maternal instincts and tell her son anything he wanted to know if only it would make him talk to her.

And yet, Henry asked no questions. He accepted her answer and went back to pushing his dinner around on his plate, his eyes once more avoiding her gaze.

This made no sense to her; if nothing else, Henry had always been curious. Sometimes too curious for his own good, but still… where had that enthusiasm and desire for answers gone? It had been absent since their encounter with Cora, and if Regina hadn't known better, she would have almost believed that her mother was responsible for this change in Henry's behavior. But Cora had done nothing to Henry during the confrontation, and so there had to be another explanation.

Regina licked her dry lips and turned her thoughts to the logistics of her plan. She had been entirely truthful before, when she'd told Henry that she would not be able to battle Cora _and_ save Emma and Mary Margaret if she also had to worry about his safety. But she couldn't keep him with her all the time – particularly during any confrontation with her mother.

She would need to leave him behind, guarded by a trustworthy adult.

Regina sighed.

Who, she wondered, could she consider another trustworthy adult? Loathe as she was to admit it, she did trust David with Henry's safety – and Emma as well. But one was in an enchanted sleep and the other was trapped in another world, so who could she turn to if she needed someone to look after Henry? Who could she trust with the one person in this miserable little town who still mattered to her?

She glanced towards the window, wondering uneasily where her mother was, and what her mother was doing. She could hear Cora's words echoing in the awkward silence of the dining room –_ My… grandson? Emma did say that you two… shared… him._

She shook her head to push away the memory, but could not stop the irritation she felt. Was the blonde really so idiotic as to talk about Henry to people she didn't know? Or had she known who Cora was and therefore assumed that she was trustworthy? But, Regina wondered, why would Emma assume that, given the animosity that existed between herself and the blonde?

And even if Emma _hadn't_ known, how could Mary Margaret have allowed it? _She_, at least, knew what Cora was capable of doing.

Henry let his fork fall to his plate, the clatter interrupting Regina's thoughts. "I'm not hungry," he said. "May I be excused?"

"Yes, you may," Regina said reluctantly, and Henry pushed back his chair and bolted from the room.

Regina continued to sit at the table, letting the silence wash over her. She had everything she wanted – Emma and Mary Margaret conveniently trapped in another world, David lost in an enchanted sleep, Henry back in her home. It should have been perfect, really. And Gold's disappearance, however momentary it would no doubt be, would have been the icing on the cake.

And yet all she felt was empty, and it was more than just her mother's presence in Storybrooke that was threatening her happy ending.

Henry wouldn't even _look_ at her. Did he blame her for what had happened? But didn't he understand that she had _tried_? She had given him her faith, and what had that brought her in return? Her mother was back, and her son was sullen and moody and refused to remain in the same room with her.

There was a sudden knock at the door. She tensed immediately, preparing for the worst, even as the logical part of her mind pointed out that her mother would never have bothered to knock. The protection spell wasn't up yet, so Cora would have simply marched in and taken what she wanted.

"Regina!" she heard a voice call. "Regina, open up. It's Ruby."

Regina curled her lip slightly as she walked towards the door. She supposed she could hardly expect the werewolf to call her Madam Mayor or Mayor Mills, and your Majesty was just as obviously out of the question, but the familiarity of calling her Regina was galling.

She opened the door.

It was more than just Ruby. Granny Lucas was there as well, and Leroy and Doc stood behind the two women.

Regina smiled coldly and asked, "No torches and pitchforks?"

"I wanted to bring them but Ruby refused," Leroy replied gruffly. "Apparently now that we're working together, we're not allowed to kill you."

Ruby slanted an annoyed look at him and then turned to Regina and said, "We're back to talk to you about the protection spell, just like I said."

Regina raised an eyebrow and nodded to the others on the porch. "And you had to bring your loyal friends? Safety in numbers, perhaps?" she demanded. "Or is it more accusations that you want to throw my way, Miss Lucas?"

"The town is concerned," Ruby replied, keeping her composure.

"So now the entire town knows," Regina said, sarcasm dripping from her words. "Did you hold a town meeting to discuss it? Perhaps come up with a better plan since you know _so much_ about my mother."

"The town has a right to know that your mother is here," Granny interrupted. "If she is as much a threat as you say she is…"

"She is hardly a threat to any of you," Regina snapped. "She will only try to destroy those who matter to me, and I assure you that _none_ of you fall into that category."

"Can you guarantee that she will not attack anyone else in the town besides you and Henry?" Granny asked pointedly.

Regina did not answer. She _couldn't_ make that promise, and they all knew it.

Still, the idea of everyone in the town discussing her mother's presence was disconcerting. She doubted that they knew much about Cora - only the little bit that Ruby had been able to glean from their confrontation at the well. It was _possible_ that, back in the Enchanted Forest, Snow could have told Red about the kind of person that Cora was, but Regina doubted it. There would have been no reason for Snow to dwell on Cora's deeds, nor any reason for Red to know about them.

But now the town knew what Ruby knew - namely that Cora had killed Regina's true love - and Regina did not like to think about her enemies casually discussing Daniel. They had no right to talk about him, no right to even _think_ about him.

And she certainly did not want them talking about Cora. If they knew what Regina's childhood had been like, what would they say? Would they mock her for it, would they tell her that it was no excuse for what she had done and they still wanted her to burn? Would they relish knowing all the ways her mother had hurt her? After everything that she had done to them, would they take comfort in the knowledge that she had suffered?

Or, worse, would they pity her?

No, she did not want the town talking about her childhood.

"We all have a right to know," Doc said reasonably, cutting into Regina's musings, "and a right to be prepared. To be part of your plan to protect Henry and rescue Snow and Emma."

Regina gazed at him. This particular dwarf had always been collected and level-headed, and though they had rarely met in their past lives, he had not been one to shy away from her in fear. But he had not been one to actively seek her out and verbally attack her, either. He was the same way in Storybrooke and she had more than once overlooked him because all of his brothers had so much more… character.

She was a bit surprised that he had opted to join Ruby for this ridiculous conversation.

"You can't do this alone," Ruby added firmly. "You can't just shut us out of a fight that could hurt us or the people we care about. This isn't your town anymore, you aren't in control. And you don't get to make all the decisions."

"And who is going to make them? Who is going to run this town?" Regina asked, one eyebrow raised. "You?"

"We can gather up those who were on Snow and Charming's council and…"

"This isn't Snow's kingdom, dear," Regina interrupted before Ruby could go any further in her planning. "We aren't back in our land, and in case you've forgotten, there are several people with royal blood here. If you want to start squabbling about who is in charge, I can think of several others who might wish to vie for the top spot." A callous smirk turned up her lips as she suggested, "King George, perhaps?"

It was a low blow and Regina knew it, but she didn't care. She had enough of her own dark memories haunting her, let Ruby suffer some as well.

"Why you vile…" Granny started, but did not have the opportunity to finish the sentence before Ruby spoke up.

"The town won't follow him," she said flatly. "Not now, not after what he did to Billy."

"Then what about your princess of cinders and her royal beloved?" Regina suggested. "Ashley Boyd and Sean Herman, I believe they are called now. Mr. Herman is a king, too, you know. And the town _will_ follow them." Ella and Thomas had been as beloved by their people as Snow and James had been by theirs, and there were many people in Storybrooke who looked to that royal family for protection. With Emma, Mary Margaret, and David all otherwise occupied at the moment, Ruby's place as de facto town leader was hardly secure.

"Enough!" Granny growled. "We all care about Henry, Regina," she said, gesturing to the others on the steps, "and we certainly care more about Snow and Emma than you do. So we are not going to leave their protection solely in your hands. And that is final."

"Is it?" Regina drawled. "Ah… yes. You've already issued that ultimatum to me, haven't you? And now you're here to reiterate it, to remind me that I am not trustworthy and you'd rather kill me than work with me. Do pick a different tune, Widow Lucas; I'm getting rather bored of this one."

"Can we come in to discuss this?" Ruby asked wearily.

Regina paused, then said, "How do I know that you are really who you say you are, Miss Lucas?"

"I… _what_?"

"My mother has the ability to change her form. She can assume the shape of any other person, so it is entirely possible that she has taken your shape. You could really be her, attempting to gain entrance to my house."

"I'm not your mother!" Ruby hissed, flushing. "Besides, if I wanted to get into your house that badly, I would just push past you. You haven't put up the protection shield yet."

"Well… you could certainly _try_ to push past me," Regina retorted, her tone a clear threat.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "This is ridiculous," she huffed. "Fine, you want proof that I am who I say I am? King George, or Albert Spencer, or whatever you want to call him, murdered Billy, framed me for the murder, then burned the hat we wanted to use to get Snow and Emma back. Would your mother have known _that_?"

"She would if she'd spoken to King George in the few hours since she arrived in this world," Regina replied smoothly, inwardly laughing at the anger and frustration simmering in Ruby's dark gaze. She knew perfectly well that Ruby was not her mother in disguise – her mother was good, but even she wouldn't have been able to impersonate Ruby _that_ well given that she'd only met the girl for a few moments by the well – but she still found it rather amusing to feign ignorance on the matter.

Besides, she reasoned, it wouldn't hurt for these idiots to be taken down a peg or two. They appeared to all be laboring under the delusion that because Snow and her dear Prince Charming had at one time bested the Evil Queen, defeating Cora would be simple. But Regina knew that her mother was far more of a threat than she had ever been, and with Mary Margaret and David both unable to help the town at the moment, these fools didn't have their wonderful saviors to turn to for assistance, either.

"Look, sister, if you think you can just stand there and keep us out…"

Regina exhaled sharply, her temper rapidly fraying. "I don't _have_ a plan," she snapped. "There is nothing for you to come in and discuss because I don't know how to defeat my mother. I don't know what comes next." She stopped, took a breath, then said in a calmer tone, "However, I do know, Miss Lucas, that I need your hair."

"I… you… what?"

"Your hair," Regina said slowly, enunciating each word as though she was speaking to a child. "I need a strand of your hair."

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I require it for the protection spell I will place around my house," Regina answered. "If I add a strand of my hair, Henry's hair, and your hair to the spell, then the three of us will be able to pass through the magical barrier without coming to any harm."

"Why can't you make a barrier that only repels your mother but allows the rest of us to come in?" Leroy demanded.

Regina huffed, impatient to have this conversation over. "Because," she said, "to make a spell specific to a single person, or even a few people, requires something from the person, something that contains their essence. Or, if you would rather use the ideas of this world, something that contains their DNA."

"Huh?"

"I could make a spell that keeps everyone out and allows only a few specific people in," Regina elaborated, silently reminding herself that screaming at the dwarf – or turning him into a toad or some such thing – would not make this conversation go any faster, "and that would require the essence of the people I want to allow in. Or I could make a spell that allows everyone in but keeps out a few specific people, and that would require the essence of the people I want kept out. The first option is the better one because my mother is not going to simply stand there while I steal some of her hair." She frowned, then added, "Besides, there is always the chance that my mother will convince someone in the town to help her, and the second option would not protect against that."

"That makes sense," Ruby said thoughtfully.

"_Of course_ it does," Regina snapped, rolling her eyes. She might not have any idea how to defeat her mother, but she had at least thought through this much. "Now," she looked at Ruby, "while I am dealing with my mother, I need someone to keep an eye on Henry. That person would need to have access to my home and… as much as it pains me to admit it, Miss Lucas, you are the best option for that."

"I am?" Ruby asked skeptically.

Regina pursed her lips. "Henry likes you, David trusts you, and… I think the chances of you joining my mother are slim."

She didn't like admitting to this, and she certainly didn't like having to rely on anyone else, particularly someone who had been such good friends with Snow. But it was the only viable course of action, and she knew it.

And this was for Henry, she reminded herself. All of this was for Henry, and she would do anything for him.

"Mine, too," Granny said.

Regina turned to her. "I beg your pardon?"

"My hair, too," Granny said. She looked at her granddaughter and said, "I know you can take care of yourself better than most, but I don't care." To Regina, she added, "You're not sending my Ruby anywhere that I can't follow."

Regina hesitated, then nodded slowly. She'd have reacted the same way had it been Henry in Ruby's place.

"Very well," she said in a clipped tone. "Now that everything is settled, I need to figure out the particulars of the spell."

"We'll help, all four of us," Granny said, and it wasn't a question.

Regina shrugged, feeling suddenly too tired to argue the matter. "As you wish," she replied, and pushed her front door open, gesturing for the two women and the two dwarves to enter.

* * *

Ruby stood in the hallway staring at the four doors in front of her. One led to Regina's room, one to Henry's, one to the guest room – now David's room for the foreseeable future – and one to the bathroom.

The house was huge. She had known that all along, of course, but knowing it intellectually was very different from actually standing here, dwarfed by everything.

She heard a voice coming from one of the rooms and walked towards it, idly noting the lush – and immaculate – carpet beneath her feet. How did Regina keep everything so _clean_?

She knocked lightly on the door and then pushed it open to find David lying on the bed and Henry hunched over in a chair he had pulled up next to his comatose grandfather. He looked up when she entered, his face streaked with tears.

He quickly wiped at his eyes. "Hi, Ruby," he said hoarsely.

"Hey, Henry," Ruby replied. She walked over to him and knelt at his side. "David will be fine," she said reassuringly. "He's just sleeping.

Henry blinked at her. "No, he's not," he said bluntly. "I've been in that place, I know what it is like. It's not just sleeping. It's worse. And he's stuck there."

Ruby felt her heart go out to the kid. He knew so much about magic and all their past lives, and he had so much energy and enthusiasm, that it was easy to forget how young he was and how much he had been through. She didn't know much about the sleeping curse, but the little that she had heard from Snow had made it clear that it wasn't just sleeping. It was more than that – worse than that – and Henry had already been through both the curse and its aftermath.

She forced a smile. "When Snow gets back, she'll wake him up," she said.

Henry rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, that's what I thought, too," he said dully. He looked as though there was something more he wanted to say, but then thought better of it. Instead, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Regina sent me up here to get your hair."

Henry gave her a puzzled look. "She needs my hair?"

"For the spell," Ruby explained, a bit surprised that Regina hadn't mentioned anything to Henry about this. "We just need a single strand…" she grimaced, "but it needs to be pulled out at the root."

A bit of Henry's trademark spark came back into his eyes then, and he asked, "You're going to use my hair to do magic?"

"Your mother is," Ruby corrected. "She needs your hair so that the barrier won't trap you." She smiled wanly and added, "She already has hers and mine and Granny's. Now we're just waiting on you."

"Why would she need yours and Granny's?" Henry questioned.

"So that we can get past the barrier, too," Ruby answered. "In case she needs our help."

Henry's expression echoed the same surprise Ruby had felt when Regina had requested her hair, as well as the same suspicion. It was unlike Regina to ask for help, and some part of Ruby thought this might still be a trick. She had every intention of keeping her eyes open and her wits about her, and if Regina was playing a long con on them, Ruby was determined to figure it out before the Evil Queen defeated them all.

On the other hand, the raw pain and terror in Regina's eyes when she spoke of her mother had seemed real enough, and some part of Ruby knew that she also had to prepare for an even worse possibility – that Regina was telling the truth, and that meant that they were now all up against a person who inspired fear in everyone, even the Evil Queen.

"Fine," Henry said, and reached up to yank out a strand of hair. He pulled out a few, getting them all at the root, and wincing as he did so. "Here." And he thrust them at Ruby.

She took them, half-expecting some speech about how he wanted to be a hero and help fight evil. But none was forthcoming, and so she turned and walked from the room, pausing in the doorway to give David's slumbering form one last look.

"I will bring Snow back to you," she murmured, "I promise."

She descended the stairs and rejoined the others in the kitchen. Regina was standing before a strange glass and metal apparatus, slowly adding a carefully measured amount of white powder into a flask suspended above heat. Granny was standing opposite her, intently watching everything the Evil Queen did. Grumpy and Doc flanked Regina, as though they expected her to flee.

Regina seemed oblivious to all this as she peered carefully at the bright blue substance swirling in the bottom of the glass flask.

"Looks like chemistry," Ruby commented as she deposited Henry's hairs on the counter.

Regina arched an eyebrow and replied, "There are many ways to do magic, Miss Lucas. I would not expect you to be able to distinguish between what is sorcery and what is science."

Ruby bristled at the implied insult, but Regina ignored her. The older woman carefully picked up one of Henry's hairs, studied it for a moment, then placed it in yet another flask that already contained three other strands.

"Are you sure you know what you are doing?" Granny asked, and Ruby could hear the concern hidden beneath layers of suspicion and distrust.

Regina straightened. "Of course," she said sharply, biting off each word. "I'm almost done. Just a few minutes more, and it will be ready."

Ruby rubbed at her eyes. They had been at this for nearly two hours. Regina had spent most of the time pouring over a spell book, and had experimented once or twice with the strange apparatus and her own hair. Doc had occasionally offered an insight, most of which Regina had immediately mocked. Leroy had alternated between grumbling complaints and muttering threats, and Granny had listened to everything in silence.

Ruby had spent most of the time being bored.

But she was worried, too. She jumped every time the wind rattled against the house or shadows moved outside the window. It had been a few hours since the incident at the well, and she just didn't understand why Cora hadn't attacked again. What was she waiting for?

Regina glanced over her shoulder at Ruby and said irritably, "If this bores you so much, no one is making you stay."

"I'm _worried_," Ruby retorted.

Regina folded her arms over her chest and drawled, "She's not going to burst in through the windows, dear."

"Why not?" Doc asked curiously. "Why hasn't your mother attacked yet?"

Regina hesitated, then said, "That is not her style. My mother prefers to wait until she knows enough about her opponents' weaknesses before she attacks. She already knows my weakness," and here Regina paused and glanced towards the ceiling, towards Henry's room, before continuing, "I am sure she was able to figure out my feelings towards Henry at the well. But she will want to discover if Gold has a weakness…"

"You mean Belle?" Ruby cut in, immediately concerned for her friend.

Regina ignored her. "And with magic here, she will need to worry about anyone else who might be a threat to her. The fairies, in particular…"

"Fairies?" Leroy interrupted, and Ruby could see the sudden mix of fear and anger in his eyes. "She'll go after them?"

Again, Regina ignored the interruption, though she did glance over in Leroy's direction. "It was also clear at the well that she did not expect there to be magic in this world. Magic feels… _different_… here, so she will undoubtedly be trying to learn everything she can about it." She turned to Ruby. "So, no need to worry, Miss Lucas. My mother will not attack tonight. She won't attack at all, not until she knows what to attack and how to do it. And then, once she has a plan…" Regina trailed off.

"Then what?" Doc prompted.

Regina turned back to the flask and stared at the substance for a long moment, then she murmured in a tone so low that it took Ruby's wolf-enhanced hearing to catch the words, "Then heaven help us all."

* * *

A woman stood on the steps outside the large and stately house. In one hand she clutched a small vial filled with something blue. She looked around for a moment, surveying the scene. Then she extended her arm, holding the vial out in front of her, and stared hard at the substance.

It rose from the vial, slipping over the rim and hovering in midair as though propelled by magic. Once all of the liquid was out of the vial, the woman lowered her arm and blew a whisper of breath onto the faint blue.

It spread outwards, rushing away from the house, fading into the night air.

The air around the house began to shimmer with a faint blue glow. It started on the ground surrounding the expansive lawn, then crept upwards, like long fingers reaching towards the sky. At the top of the house it curved, the fingers coming together and forming a dome. The blue glittered there for a moment more, growing brighter, then it disappeared.

There were three people standing on the street. Two of them were men, both slightly shorter than average. One of the men charged forward, trying to pass through the manicured hedges, but the moment he came close to lawn he was hit by something solid that threw him backwards. He landed on the ground with a heavy thud.

The second man was more hesitant. He stepped forward, his hand in front of him, as though feeling around for something. After a moment, his fingers seemed to brush against something solid, and then circles appeared at his fingertips, spreading across the air like ripples on a pond. He pressed his whole hand flat against the invisible barrier, but no amount of force would let him pass.

The third person standing on the street was a woman, and younger. She hesitated for a moment, then flipped her dark brown hair over one shoulder and walked resolutely forward, stepping through the hedges and onto the lawn without any trouble.

A woman moved unseen in the shadows across the street, watching all this with a smile on her lips. "Oh, very good, my daughter," she murmured. "Very good, indeed."


	4. So Far From Home

A/N: Although _The Doctor_ indicates that Regina essentially went from Good to Evil overnight, I'm taking the view that it was actually more gradual. Although I think several factors played a role in her change, I am also assuming that magic is a major one. Her magic fed her hatred and her hatred fed her magic, and if magic is an addiction (as it seems to be on the show) then it would take her a while to become completely the Evil Queen.

* * *

Chapter Four: So Far From Home

For a long while, they walked in silence.

Emma was thankful for the quiet. It gave her time to think, time to organize her thoughts.

Cora had beaten them.

Mary Margaret had accepted this without much comment, and had treated it as though it were merely another setback. She still firmly believed that they would return safely to Storybrooke, that the loss of the compass and the portal merely meant that it would take a little longer. It was obvious that the extra time _was_ upsetting her, though. And Emma couldn't blame her for that. David was trapped in some horrible netherworld, and Cora was in Storybrooke with everyone that that the two women loved, and every second they spent in this land was an extra second they weren't back home.

But Mary Margaret's faith in their ultimate triumph was unshaken. She truly believed that they would make it back to Storybrooke, and that David and Henry would be safe until they did.

Emma did not have that faith.

Before Emma could ponder her lack of faith any further, however, Mary Margaret interrupted her thoughts by asking Hook, "What is Cora planning to do now that she's in Storybrooke?"

Hook glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, and retorted, "How would I know?"

"She didn't tell you?" Emma questioned skeptically. Cora didn't seem like the sharing type, she supposed, but hadn't she and Hook been a team?

"Why would she?" Hook countered with a shrug that showed just how little he cared about Cora's plans. "We both wanted to reach your world so a partnership was mutually beneficial. But there was really no need to discuss what would happen _after_ we found our way."

"It didn't bother you at all that you had no idea what Cora was planning? She's powerful and evil, and you were content to help her reach Storybrooke where she could hurt countless innocent people?"

"Innocent is a matter of opinion," Hook answered, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Then he shook his head and added, "And no, I don't care about Cora or what she does. She's your problem."

"You made her _our_ problem," Mary Margaret snapped.

Hook rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't. In case you didn't notice, Cora managed to find her way to Storybrooke just fine without me. _I_ didn't force her on any of you."

Before Mary Margaret could respond to that, Emma interjected, "How did you meet Cora in the first place?"

Hook stopped walking and turned to face Emma. His lips curved into a sardonic smile as he challenged, "And why would I tell you about my past when you are so reluctant to tell me about yours?"

Emma bristled, but Mary Margaret murmured, "Don't let him bait you."

Emma gritted her teeth and pushed past Hook, determined to ignore him. His ability to read her was disconcerting, and the last thing she wanted to do was give him any more information that he might be able to use against her in the future. He had already said that he only cared about his revenge against Gold, and that meant he would be more than willing to manipulate her if it suited his purposes.

She was tired of being a pawn. Gold had used her, she was sure of that. She wasn't going to let the pirate do the same.

Hook laughed throatily and resumed walking. They were all silent for a moment, and then he said, "Your darling Evil Queen sent me to kill her." At Emma's confused glance, he elaborated, "That is how I met Cora."

"Regina sent you to kill her mother?" Emma repeated in disbelief. Then her eyes narrowed and she added, "But you failed."

"Obviously," Hook drawled. "Cora… _convinced_… me that it would be in my best interest to join forces with her and betray her daughter. She made quite a compelling argument, so I opted to help her instead."

"Oh, really?" Emma replied. "What did she say?"

Hook gave her a chilling smile that could have conveyed so many different answers, but simply said, "I think I've shared enough about my past now. Unless, of course, you are willing to share something about yours?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "No wonder Peter Pan wanted to kill you," she grumbled irritably.

Hook frowned at her. "How do you know about _him_?" he asked, his tone laced with distaste.

"A lot of the people who lived in this world show up as fairytale characters in the stories from the other world," Mary Margaret supplied. She quickened her pace to draw level with Emma and added, "Of course, the stories themselves usually aren't completely correct, but they do have some truth to them."

"And these stories… Chief Pan is in them?" Hook pressed, showing an actual interest for the first time since the beginning of the conversation.

"Yes," Mary Margaret replied.

At the same time, Emma asked, "_Chief_ Pan? He's just a boy in our stories." Then she paused thoughtfully before adding, "He is a leader, though. I suppose it is possible he was considered a chief. I don't remember the story that well."

Hook narrowed his eyes at that, but said nothing else. Emma found herself intrigued against her will – she wanted to know the real story of Peter Pan. But telling Hook that she was interested in that would only give the pirate more leverage against her.

Again, a silence fell.

As they walked, Emma reached up and absently ran her fingers over her chest, directly above her heart. The brief pain she had felt when Cora had reached into her chest had long since faded, as had the searing heat that had accompanied the strange burst of power that had forced Cora away from her. She felt normal now, but still…

She had magic. Magic existed inside of her. How was that possible?

Was Gold behind it?

Mary Margaret reached over and caught her wrist, stilling her hand. Worried eyes flicked up to Emma's face.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," Emma rushed to assure the other woman, "it doesn't. I'm fine. I was just… thinking."

Mary Margaret released her wrist with a nod that did not entirely quell the concern in her gaze, and Emma dropped her hand back to her side.

The blonde cast a sidelong look at Hook. He was watching the exchange with a calculating expression, but when he caught her staring at him, he merely smiled and raised an eyebrow.

She turned away from him and exchanged a look with Mary Margaret. Hook had been unconscious when Cora had tried to rip out Emma's heart. He did not know about the magic Emma possessed, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"We'll talk about it back in Storybrooke," Mary Margaret said in a low voice. "The Blue Fairy might have some ideas. Or…" she hesitated, clearly not liking the option but knowing it couldn't be avoided, "Gold might know."

Emma grimaced, but nodded her agreement.

"If I might interrupt whatever it is you are whispering about," Hook said, "night is falling. I suggest we find a good place to camp."

"We can't just stop!" Emma protested immediately. "We're still two days away from your ship. We'll make better time if we keep walking through the night."

"I imagine we will make better time for the first hour or so," Hook replied flatly. "Right up until the ogres find us. Then we'll be dead."

"He's right, Emma," Mary Margaret agreed. Emma spun around to give her an incredulous stare, but she merely sighed and explained, "It's too dangerous to keep moving at night. The ogres… next time I might not be able to make that shot."

Emma hesitated, torn. Every part of her wanted to press forward, to keep walking until they made it to the ocean, to Hook's ship, to Storybrooke. To Henry. But Mary Margaret's words were a gentle reminder that she _was_ out of place in this world, and that the last time she had ignored warnings about the ogres she had nearly gotten them all killed.

And she would be of no help to Henry if she was dead.

She gave a reluctant nod.

"There's some high ground over there," Mary Margaret said, pointing through the thicket of trees towards a slightly sloping knoll. "We can start a fire there, and get some rest. Emma, you and I can split the watches."

"You don't want me to take one of the watches?" Hook asked mockingly. "Don't you trust me to protect you?"

Mary Margaret gave him a hard stare and said bluntly, "No."

* * *

"How well do you know Cora?"

Mary Margaret started at Emma's question. Her arms were filled with kindling for the fire, and most of her attention was on Hook, who stood at the other end of the small clearing, gathering firewood himself. The pirate might be helping them – for now – but that did not mean she was ever going to let him out of her sight.

Keeping her eyes on Hook, Mary Margaret replied, "I knew her when I was younger. I met her when I met Regina, and she came to the palace with us. But she disappeared before the wedding, and I hadn't seen her since then... until now."

"Disappeared?"

Mary Margaret sighed and shifted the weight of the firewood from one arm to the other. "I was too young to understand at the time, but… now, looking back on it, I think it is likely that Regina got rid of her somehow."

"You mean… she tried to kill her?"

"No," Mary Margaret said quickly, surprised at her own immediate and instinctual defense. They had both met Cora, and knew perfectly well what she was capable of, and though it was hard to imagine condoning matricide… well, was Regina trying to kill her mother really such an unthinkable proposition?

Anyway, they already knew that Regina had tried to have Cora killed at least once. Hook had admitted to that.

Something twisted unpleasantly in Mary Margaret's chest and she blinked quickly, looking from Hook to her daughter and then back to the pirate.

It was hard to talk about this younger Regina, the woman who had existed in the beginning. It was hard to even think about her – her memory had been so corrupted by the suffering the Evil Queen had cast on all of them. But Mary Margaret still remembered the desperate hope she had felt when they had given Regina one last chance to prove that she wasn't all Evil Queen… and she remembered the feel of the knife slipping into her stomach, destroying her hopes, as the Evil Queen failed the test.

"I think Regina just wanted her… gone," Mary Margaret said at last. "She must have sent her somewhere, although I have no idea where. Like I said, I haven't seen her since before Regina's wedding to my father, and by the time it occurred to me to ask questions, it was too late. My father was dead, and Regina wouldn't have given me the truth."

"So you have no idea what happened, but you're adamant that Regina wouldn't have tried to kill her own mother? Isn't this the same woman who ripped out her father's heart to enact the curse?"

"_What_?" Mary Margaret demanded, turning her gaze away from Hook once more and giving Emma a look of surprise.

"Ah…" Emma blinked and looked a bit sheepish. "You haven't read that part of Henry's book?"

Mary Margaret shook her head wordlessly.

"Oh... well."

Mary Margaret sighed and set her armful of kindling on the ground, and Emma crouched beside her, waiting for more of an explanation. It was painfully evident that the blonde was still having trouble wrapping her head around everything that had happened since the curse broke, and even though she knew that they were all fairy tale characters…

Knowing was not the same as truly understanding.

"Regina didn't change over night. It took longer, and it happened in… pieces. The person she was at the beginning, even after everything that had happened with Daniel, was still very different from the person she became at the end. And the woman who stood in the center of that great hall and married my father… I just don't think she would have killed her mother." She sighed. "Even if that was something she was willing to do later."

"If you say so," Emma answered, the skepticism clear in her voice.

Mary Margaret rubbed at her eyes and quietly contemplated Emma's disbelief.

She had spent _so long_ trying to figure out why Regina hated her. Hiding in the woods as an outlaw, a fugitive from her own home and her own people, she'd had plenty of time to try to unravel just how everything had fallen apart. Before she knew about Daniel's fate, before Regina finally gave her that last puzzle piece, she'd been left with only guesses and conjecture, and it had never seemed like enough. What had she done to deserve such hatred?

But although she had not been able to see the full picture until much later, she had figured out that her stepmother had been jealous. Not of her beauty as the ridiculous fairytales would say, but of her place in her father's heart. King Leopold had only ever had room for two people in his heart, and though she had died, Snow's beloved mother had never truly left him. He'd given all his love and all his attention to his daughter and the memory of his first wife, and there had been nothing left for Regina.

As a child, Mary Margaret hadn't noticed it, but now, as an adult, it was obvious upon reflection. And although it was hardly an excuse for what Regina had become – and not even the main reason for the Evil Queen's hatred of Snow – it did add a layer of complexity that did not exist in the more familiar Disney version of the story.

"Tell me about her?" Emma requested. "Regina. What she was like… before."

Mary Margaret rocked back on her heels and contemplated the question. She had never had to provide a description of the innocent Regina in the past because no one had ever wanted to know. She'd told James, of course, but those had been whispered confessions in the night, a sharing of her own burdens. She'd always been the one to initiate the stories – James himself had never asked.

And now Emma wanted to know.

"The Regina I first met, the one told me about true love, the one who told me that the only way to overcome my fears was to face them… she was the kind of person I would have given anything to have as a stepmother… as a friend."

"She changed," Emma said, and it wasn't a question.

Mary Margaret nodded, her throat suddenly dry. "Yes," she whispered. "She changed."

"Because of Cora?" Emma pressed. "You said something about Cora killing Regina's true love."

"Daniel. Yes. Yes, she killed him. My father wanted to marry Regina, but Regina wanted to run away with a stable hand named Daniel. I caught the two of them kissing and Regina made me promise not to tell anyone." A fond smile curved Mary Margaret's lips as she added wistfully, "That was the night she told me about true love."

"But you told Cora."

Again, it wasn't a question, and it wasn't even an accusation, but Mary Margaret felt a sudden need to defend herself.

"Yes. She tricked me into telling her and when she found out… I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was just a child and I didn't understand what Cora was like. She killed Daniel. She ripped his heart out and crushed it into dust… in front of Regina."

"That wasn't your fault," Emma protested. "You were just a child and Cora is… well… _Cora_."

Mary Margaret didn't answer. She'd heard those words before, from her Charming. And she knew, logically, that it wasn't her fault, but sometimes she still felt the guilt. It would eat away at her, silently reminding her that all this could have been avoided if only she hadn't been so naïve.

If only she had not so innocently believed that everyone was truly good at heart.

She closed her eyes. "When my father and Regina married, she told me that Daniel had left. She told me that what she had felt for Daniel was just lust, but that she loved my father and she loved me. I didn't find out the truth until much later. Regina told me right before I ate the apple."

She stood up abruptly, glancing over towards Hook. She'd forgotten about the pirate, and for a moment she felt a rush of fear that he might have left them – or done worse. But he was still there, starting the fire and watching them.

He smiled and gave Mary Margaret a wink.

Emma growled under her breath as she rose to her feet as well.

"Come on," Mary Margaret said, picking up the kindling, "we should get back to the fire."

Emma caught her arm. "Do you believe Regina can change back?" she asked. "Do you believe she can become good again?"

And that was the question, wasn't it?

"When she told me about Daniel… she was so far gone, Emma. So evil, so… She'd killed and caused suffering and _delighted_ in it. But there was more than just rage in her eyes that day. There was love, too, when she said his name. True, genuine love. I hadn't seen that in her eyes since Daniel died, and I…" She stopped, trying to choose her words carefully. "I saw it in Storybrooke. When you spoke of Henry, when you said that Henry had asked you to protect her… I saw the way she reacted to his name. I saw the love in her eyes. I truly believe that she loves him and that she will do all she can to keep him safe."

"She tried to put me in an enchanted sleep even though she knew how much it would hurt Henry if anything happened to me," Emma retorted pointedly, her expression bitter. "And look how well _that_ turned out."

"I know," Mary Margaret agreed heavily. "But if she wants to change, I think her love of Henry will help her."

"And do you think she wants to change?"

Mary Margaret hesitated. "I don't know," she admitted reluctantly. "And… even if she wants to, that doesn't mean she'll succeed at it. She's been the Evil Queen for so long, Emma, and she's done such horrible things… there may be no way for her to come back from that."

Emma nodded and lapsed into silence and the two walked towards the fire.

As Mary Margaret dropped the firewood onto the ground next to Hook, she thought over everything she and Emma had said – and everything they hadn't said. She had specifically not asked if the blonde thought Regina could change because she wasn't sure she wanted the answer. Emma never bothered to hide her distrust and dislike of Regina, and Mary Margaret could not blame her for that. But everyone had repeatedly told her that her belief in Regina was misplaced, and she didn't want to hear it all again. She was honest enough to admit that Regina's chances of redemption were slim at best, but she still desperately _wanted_ to believe.

But wanting something to be true did not make it so, and she had learned that the hard way.

She had made the mistake of letting the Evil Queen go once before, and it had cost her. She would not make that same mistake again.

* * *

"Your Majesty. May I join you?"

King George looked up sharply at the question, surprised by the interruption into his solitude. He had not heard the woman approach, but now that she was standing before him, he felt a thrill of something racing in his chest.

This woman carried herself as someone who knew what she wanted and was used to getting it.

He narrowed his eyes at her even as he gestured for her to take a seat next to him on the bench. The night air was cold and the street was empty of everything but a few stray leaves still blowing in the wind, but he had no desire to return home. There was nothing there for him. Just emptiness and memories.

"Who are you?" he asked. She looked vaguely familiar, and he thought he might have known her at some point in the past, in the other world that had been his home.

"No one of consequence," she answered with a smile.

"You know how I am," he said. "It is only fair you tell me who you are."

"Guess," she murmured with a light laugh.

He eyed her garb. "You are dressed in clothing from our land. Expensive clothing. Nobility? At the very least, you must be the wife of a wealthy landowner. And clearly you are ready to return home, though it seems that _that_ might never happen. Or are you trying to bring home to Storybrooke?"

She continued to smile.

He frowned and turned away, suddenly annoyed. "I have no desire to play idiotic guessing games," he snapped. "Tell me who you are and what you want, or leave."

"I was married to a wealthy landowner," she said, "but he died. He was killed, actually. By the Evil Queen."

George huffed impatiently. "A lot of people were killed by her. What do I care about your story?"

"Snow White let her live," the woman said, her voice hard and cold. Anger flashed dangerously in her eyes. "They had her trapped, ready to execute her, and our wonderful and fair princess let her _go_." A pause, then, "Or is Snow a Queen now, and not a princess?"

"Why tell me this?" George asked, curious despite himself. He'd been allies with the Evil Queen once, though the partnership had been more a reluctant joining of forces than anything else. They had needed each other to achieve their separate plans, and so the alliance had been born. But he felt nothing for the Evil Queen, and certainly did not care what happened to her.

"Because you seem to be the only one here who can see what is happening," the woman said. She looked away, tilting her head up towards the sky as though she was studying the stars. "Do you know why Snow let her live? Because she _wanted_ to. Not because it was the right thing to do, not because it was fair or just, not because she had no other choice… no, she let the Evil Queen live because she wanted to. As though her own wishes superseded the safety of her people. As though our pain and suffering meant nothing. As though we did not deserve justice."

"I'm sure Snow White didn't see it that way," George replied, his words acidic. "I'm sure she justified it to herself somehow. Saving a life or some other ridiculously noble cause. She and her Charming husband were always _quite_ good at self-delusion."

"Did you know they cast a protection spell on the Evil Queen before they released her?" the woman pressed, leaning in towards George. "They used magic to ensure that she could never harm either Snow White or Prince James, and then they simply let her leave. Banishment, they called it. Never mind the fact that she could still harm _everyone else_ in the kingdom. Such wonderful monarchs, aren't they? So just and fair. _Heroes_, really."

Her words were poison. They wrapped around the hatred and the anger already festering in his heart. That anger grew, flickering brighter with every passing second, morphing into a need for revenge.

He blinked and quickly averted his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked hoarsely, trying to think past the rage that infused every part of his mind.

"I want to know why the Evil Queen is still walking free in this land. I want to know why James thought he could simply resume his role as a leader here, even though this country is not a monarchy. I want to know why all the other royals haven't demanded their own fair share of control, particularly now that Snow is gone and James is… indisposed. I want to know why we don't seem to get a say in anything anymore." She paused. "I want answers… and I want justice."

"You came to the wrong person," George ground out, hating to admit it but knowing that he had already been defeated. "I might have been a king once, and the district attorney, too, but all my power has been stripped away. The prince saw to that – him and his pet wolf."

James had taken everything from him.

And he wasn't even James. He was an imposter using his brother's name, a shepherd pretending to be a king.

George felt a growl rising in his throat at the mere thought of everything he had lost. He had been happy once, with his wife. When his wife had been alive, she would smile at him and it seemed as though the entire world grew brighter. He had imagined a future for them – one filled with laughter and love and children. But the years had passed and his wife had been barren, and then they had finally managed to obtain a son…

It hadn't been easy to love James – the _real_ James – at first. The boy was a constant reminder of his wife's infertility, of the one thing that had been missing from his otherwise perfect life. But time had passed, and James had changed from being a necessary heir to an actual son, to someone that George had both loved and cherished. He had been the shining light in George's life after his wife had died.

And then James had died, too, and his brother had taken his place.

And that had brought nothing but heartache and pain and ruin.

The woman rose to her feet, her movements distracting George from his thoughts. "They stripped you of your power?" she said softly. "Then it seems to me there is only one thing to do. _Take it back_."


	5. Forever Young

Chapter Five: Forever Young

"In Neverland, no one ages physically, but time does pass."

Emma raised an eyebrow and looked at Hook, surprised that he had decided to volunteer any information.

Mary Margaret was sleeping while Hook lounged against a tree and Emma kept watch over the dying fire. Mulan's sword rested on her knees and her gun was at her hip, but she still did not feel safe here. It _wasn't_ safe in this foreign place, and it wasn't safe with the pirate.

"Neverland is how I managed to retain my dashing good looks," Hook continued, giving Emma a wink.

The blonde leaned forward. "How old are you?" she asked curiously.

"Depends. Do you fancy older men?" Hook replied. Emma rolled her eyes, and he gave a low laugh and a smirk in response before continuing, "Let's just say I am old enough to have known Rumpelstiltskin when he was still human."

"Fascinating," Emma deadpanned. She vaguely remembered reading a part of Henry's book that dealt with the Dark One, and thought it possible that Rumpelstiltskin was ancient. Mary Margaret certainly talked about him as though he had been around for a very long time.

It was strange to think that Hook could be that old, too. He certainly didn't look like it.

She must have allowed her eyes to sweep over his body, because he laughed again and said, "Are you checking me out? Would you like me to come closer to the fire so you can get a better view?"

"You wish," she snapped back automatically.

"Hm…" He was silent for a moment, gazing at the embers, then said, "Peter was young when he came to Neverland. Just a boy. And he didn't spend much time out of that land, so he didn't age physically. But he has been around nearly as long as I have, so mentally and emotionally, he is old. Old enough to be a chief." His expression hardened before he muttered under his breath, "And a bastard."

"He's just a kid in our stories, and on the side of Good," Emma scoffed. "You probably just don't like him because he actually beat you."

"On the side of Good? So does your world also use children to fight battles?"

Emma's eyes widened, but she said nothing. That was something else she remembered from Henry's book – something about children fighting ogres. But the details were vague at best, and she'd never given much consideration to the possibility that this had happened more than once.

How could anyone send children to fight monsters?

"What happened?" she asked.

Hook grinned. "You tell me about your life, and I'll…"

"No," Emma interrupted sharply before he could finish the offer.

Hook leaned forward slightly. "Then tell me about Rumpelstiltskin."

"You seem to know quite a bit more about him than I do," Emma answered truthfully.

She hadn't paid enough attention to Henry's stories in the past year. Perhaps if she had, she'd feel less out of sorts. She'd know how to navigate this land, and she'd have the knowledge she needed to be less of a burden to Mary Margaret. At the very least, it might have helped her keep the upper hand in conversations with Hook.

But she _hadn'_t listened to Henry and she'd only _glanced_ over the stories in that book...

"I know what he was like in this land," Hook replied, gesturing to the woods around them. Firelight reflected in his eyes and cast shadows along one side of his face as he continued to study Emma. "But what is he like in your land?"

"I'm not going to help you figure out how to kill him," she said firmly.

Hook's eyes narrowed dangerously, and said, "I don't plan on killing him. That would be too quick. No… I'm going to take his heart."

"Like you took Aurora's?" Emma demanded, anger flaring in her chest at the memory of the princess' pale face when she had realized that someone else held her heart. Aurora had been terrified, and yet despite that, she had still bravely insisted on being tied up and left behind, left alone in this destroyed land so that she couldn't betray them again.

Emma's hands curled into fists at her side, and she was just itching for an excuse to hit the pirate.

But the thought of Aurora also made her feel guilty. They hadn't bothered going back for Mulan or Aurora, hadn't even bothered checking to make sure that Mulan had safely and successfully returned her friend's stolen heart. They didn't have the time to double back to that cell, but still…

Emma averted her gaze for a moment, and silently told herself that once this was over – once they had made it back to Storybrooke and rescued everyone from Cora – then they would figure out a way to find their two new friends again.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

"Nothing quite so literal," Hook said, interrupting the blonde's thoughts and staring down at his hook with a contemplative frown. "I was only able to do that once – a gift from the Queen."

"Regina?"

"Yes."

"Why would Regina give you the ability to take a heart…?" Emma started, and then stopped when the answer became blindingly clear. "You were supposed to take Cora's."

Hook did not confirm or deny the accusation. Instead, he said softly, "I've waited a long time to get revenge on Rumpelstiltskin. He took my heart from me once, but let's see who wins this round."

Emma chuckled darkly. "I wouldn't bet against him. He's already proven himself adept at using magic in our land, and he has no qualms against hurting people. The wraith he sent after Regina was proof of that."

"Why would he send a wraith after her?" Hook asked eagerly. "What did she do?"

Emma was wise enough not to answer that question. She didn't know the answer, of course – she'd never figured out what Regina had done to enrage Gold. But more than that, the glean in Hook's eyes was telling her that the answer to this question was important to him, and she was not about to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

She'd probably said too much already.

"Rumpelstiltskin kills without thought and without regret. But a wraith doesn't kill. It just sucks the soul out of the body and sends it to eternal suffering," Hook explained. "If Rumpelstiltskin was willing to do _that_… He was angry. The Evil Queen got to him somehow." He gave Emma a scrutinizing stare, then a look of realization dawned on his features, and he murmured to himself, "And I think I know how." He laughed then, and a triumphant smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "Well, she always did have a penchant for taking people's hearts."

Emma chewed her lip, worried but unsure what to do. Finally, in an awkward attempt to switch the subject, she said, "So Peter Pan is physically a child and emotionally an adult. Huh. Usually, with guys, it's the other way around."

"He grew up, even if he didn't age," Hook replied, leaning back against the tree once more, a content look in his eyes.

"Pity you didn't do the same thing," Emma snarked. "You could have used all that time to grow up instead of holding onto your desire for vengeance."

Hook stared at her for a long moment, then said quietly, "You have a son."

"What of it?" Emma asked warily.

"If you had seen his heart ripped from his chest and crushed into dust in front of you, how quickly would you get over it?"

Emma didn't have an answer.

And they were silent for a long while, Hook staring at the embers of their fire and Emma contemplating all the things she would be willing to do if someone hurt Henry.

* * *

They started walking the moment the sun rose.

Hook took the lead, and set a quick pace, but neither Emma nor Mary Margaret complained. They were all eager to reach his ship.

As they walked, Emma fell into step beside Mary Margaret and asked quietly, "Do you remember the story of Peter Pan? The story from our… from my…"

What was she even supposed to call it? She couldn't call it _their_ world, or even really _her_ world... Or could she? It wasn't her world, not technically, but it was the only world she had known for nearly three decades and the Enchanted Forest certainly did not _feel_ like home. It _was_ Mary Margaret's world, but _not_ Snow's, and the woman walking next to her was both.

Finally, she settled on, "From the world Storybrooke is in."

Mary Margaret considered this, then answered slowly, "Well, there is the Disney version, but the original was written by a Scottish playwright. Barrie, I think."

"Was Peter Pan… did he kidnap the children in the story?" Emma asked. She'd only ever seen the Disney version, and it was overly saccharine as most Disney movies of that era had been. But the original versions of fairy tales were generally quite a bit darker, and it wouldn't surprise her if this one was, too.

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows in surprise at the question and shook her head. "No. Wendy, Michael, and John Darling all go with him willingly. Although… I think he tries to bar Wendy out of her own home when she decides to return to her parents." Giving Emma a knowing look, she asked, "What did Hook say?"

"That Peter Pan kidnapped children to fight battles for him."

Mary Margaret shrugged. "That's possible, I suppose," she admitted. "I don't know the real story, I'd never even heard of Neverland before the curse." She hesitated, then pressed, "Did Hook say anything else about Peter Pan?"

"Just that he was really old, even if he looked like a boy. Even if he didn't age."

"I understand that," Mary Margaret said thoughtfully. "I mean… I didn't age for twenty-eight years. Time didn't move for twenty-eight years. But I still remember everything that happened. There might not have been much variation in my day-to-day life, but… twenty-eight years. I should be quite a bit older by now."

"I know," Emma mumbled, reflecting on how much less weird her life would be if her mother wasn't practically her own age.

"And sometimes I feel older," Mary Margaret continued. "But sometimes I don't. Sometimes it is like Storybrooke was just an aside, and my life has picked up again right where it left off. But I was Mary Margaret for as long as I was Snow and… I think of myself as Mary Margaret now, even though I know she wasn't ever real…" She gave a wan smile. "It's hard to explain."

"Imagine how strange it must be for all the children in Storybrooke," Emma mused. "They have twenty-eight years of memories, but they're just children. I wonder how old they feel."

"It's more than that. I mean… I have twenty-eight years of memories… but in all twenty-eight of those years, I am the same age. I have more years of memories… fake memories, memories of things that didn't happen… from Mary Margaret's childhood. A childhood that she – that _I _– never actually lived through. It's… complicated. There are so many years inside my head."

Emma mulled that over quietly. She hadn't given much thought to how strange it must be for the inhabitants of Storybrooke to remember things that never actually happened. Her viewpoint on life had changed rather rapidly in the past few weeks, and she was just slowly getting used to this new existence. But it seemed like every time she felt as though she was adequately coping, something new was thrown her way to upset her balance.

Now it was apparently Hook's turn to challenge her point of view.

She glared at the pirate's back.

They walked for a while in silence, then Mary Margaret rested her hand lightly on Emma's arm and said softly, "You know, just because Peter Pan might not be a hero… well, that doesn't mean that Hook isn't a villain."

Emma nodded and said sourly, "Still, I liked the fairytales a lot better when they were black and white."

Mary Margaret gave a sad smile. "If only it was that simple."

* * *

"You're not welcome here, Spencer."

George curled his lip at the name. He knew that many of the town residents were still going by their Storybrooke names, but he saw no reason to. He was _not_ Albert Spencer – that name belonged to a man who had been created by someone else's curse, a man who might have wielded the power of a District Attorney but did not wield the power of a king. He was King George, and he was not about to let anyone forget that.

"I prefer your Majesty," he replied as he stepped further into the otherwise empty flower shop.

"You're not _my_ Majesty," came the reply. "So unless you are planning on buying something, get out."

George snorted. "Why such hostility? What did I ever do to you, sir?"

"It's Moe French now. I'm not longer Maurice. The Evil Queen's curse saw to that."

"The Evil Queen's curse was broken," George answered. "You can be whoever you want. And I am surprised that a person of your standing would choose to be a flower delivery man." He glanced around with a smug smile. "It's hardly a _noble_ calling."

"I'm not a noble anymore," Moe replied flatly, his words angry. "And you aren't either."

"I was never a noble. I was _royalty_. And the Evil Queen did not take that from me," George hissed.

"You're right," Moe replied mockingly. "It was Prince James who took that from you when his army defeated yours. You were forced to flee, weren't you? He took your kingdom and added it to Snow White's and made quite the conquest."

"I didn't realize you supported Prince James and Snow White so… _ardently_," George growled. The conversation was not going the way he had envisioned, but he couldn't seem to get it back on track. Moe was on the offensive, bringing up the loss of his kingdom and throwing salt into already painful wounds.

James – the _fake_ James – might have stolen his kingdom, but he was still a king by birth, which was more than that imposter could say. He deserved respect, he deserved deference… and he deserved power.

Moe sighed and said, "You're a persona non grata, _your Majesty_. After what you did to that boy…"

"I didn't realize it was a crime to kill a _mouse_," George cut in sharply.

"I don't want any more trouble," Moe said simply. "Belle…" He stopped, a flicker of pain in his eyes. "Belle is gone, and I'd rather stay under the radar for now. Rumpelstiltskin is…"

"Rumpelstiltskin is _dating_ your daughter," George sneered. "He has _murdered_ people. He has caused pain and suffering, and enjoyed it. Why is he worthy of her forgiveness when you are not?" He paused, waiting just long enough for Moe to slowly nod his head in agreement, before adding, "Why is he even walking around freely?"

"He has magic," Moe murmured softly. "Stopping him would be…"

"Difficult," George cut in. "I know. But no one is even _trying_. Just as no one is trying to imprison the Evil Queen. They are both allowed complete freedom… _why_?" He stepped forward and lowered his voice. "Snow White and Prince James had no qualms about going up against the Evil Queen before. But they had something to gain, didn't they? They wanted to free the kingdom from the Evil Queen's grasp so that _they_ could rule it. But now they no longer have a reason to fight these people who have caused us such pain, so they aren't."

"Snow White is gone," Moe answered pointedly. "And…"

"And Prince James – no, he doesn't deserve the title. _David Nolan_ has done nothing to Regina Mills or Gold. He appoints himself Sheriff even though he was not elected to the position and presumes to run the town in his wife and daughter's absence… but what has he actually _done_ for us?"

"I… well…" Moe hesitated, then narrowed his eyes and said, "You've murdered people, too."

"I've killed people in war. That is not the same as cold-blooded murder," George defended himself.

"You killed that mouse," Moe shot back. "He might have been a mouse once, but he was human when you killed him. Why are you walking around freely?"

"Because David Nolan and his pet wolf couldn't be bothered to stop me," George replied. "They didn't care... or rather, they didn't care _enough_. Which works out well enough for me."

That wasn't the full story, of course. James-

No, not James. He would think of the imposter as David from now on. He did not deserve to have the same name as the true James.

_David_ had wanted to lock him up but the cells in the Sheriff station had been destroyed when the wraith attacked Regina, and no one had bothered to fix them. By the time David had realized this, he'd been forced to let George out of his sight for just a few minutes while he searched for someone to fix them, and that was all that had been needed for the one-time king to slip away.

David might have looked for him, he knew, but with the loss of the hat that was supposed to bring back Snow and Emma, the imposter had been busy with other concerns. And since all it took was flower pollen to throw off the wolf's keen sense of smell, George had managed to avoid detection fairly easily.

Of course, wandering around in broad daylight was risky, but it would all be worth it if everything went according to plan.

"You want to stay under the radar," George said with a thin-lipped smile that did not reach his eyes, "because you're afraid of what exactly? Fighting back? Demanding what is rightfully yours? All you did was try to protect your daughter. How is that so wrong?"

"She thinks…"

"She _thinks_ Rumpelstiltskin is truly good at heart. Clearly, her judgment isn't one we should trust." George folded his arms over his chest. "It was David Nolan and Ruby Lucas who found her, wasn't it? When you tried to send her over the town line."

"How do you know about that?"

"I make a point of knowing everything I can about the happenings around here, particularly if they involve Rumpelstiltskin or the Evil Queen," George answered readily enough. "And the point is that they intervened. _They_ got in the middle of your disagreement with your daughter, _they_ intervened, _they_ judged you, _they_ helped her move on and leave you behind, and even _now_ the wolf is friends with her and is probably whispering lies in her ear, poisoning her against you. And all you were trying to do was protect her from a monster who had tricked his way into her heart."

"I… you're right…"

"You are nobility, Sir Maurice, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. And maybe you have no problem allowing David and Ruby to strip you of your title and your power, but are you really going to let them take your daughter, too?"

Moe frowned, and then his expression hardened. "No," he said firmly, "I'm not."

* * *

Talking to Henry had never been easy.

When he was younger, Regina simply had not known how to interact with a child. She'd had little to do with them in the Enchanted Forest – save for Snow, of course, but she was determined not to think of Snow for fear that her opinion of _that_ child would taint her relationship with Henry.

As Henry had grown older, she had slowly figured out how to be a mother, but it had not come easily or naturally to her. She had loved him, in her own complicated and dysfunctional way, and for a time she had been content in the knowledge that he loved her with all the simple innocence of a child.

Then he'd received that book, and everything had changed.

Regina stood in the doorway to the guest room, watching as Henry clutched David's hand. It had been a challenge last night to convince Henry to get some sleep, and almost as soon as morning had come the boy had rushed back to his grandfather's side.

He looked up at her then, his face carefully devoid of expression. "Is it time for school?"

"Actually, I don't think you will be going to school today," Regina replied, stepping into the room.

Henry frowned. "What? Why?" he demanded.

Regina sighed. She knew keeping him from school was uncharacteristic of her, but she just didn't know what else to do. She had yet to come up with a good way to keep Henry safe while he wasn't in the house or under her watchful eye, and with Cora out there…

The idea of allowing Henry to wander around school unprotected sent a shiver down her spine.

"It is too dangerous, Henry," Regina said softly, crouching down beside her son. "You are not safe at school."

Henry's frown deepened. "So I have to stay inside the house all the time?" he demanded, an edge to his voice. "I don't ever get to see anyone?"

Regina tried not to flinch at the implied accusation, the suspicions that Henry was thinking but had yet to voice aloud. She pressed her lips into a thin line and stamped down the annoyance that rose every time Henry refused to give her the benefit of the doubt. She had to earn his trust, she knew – she had to earn everyone's trust.

It was just so _hard_.

"Well, you can invite Miss Lucas over if you wish," Regina said reluctantly.

"If I am safe with her, then why can't she come with me to school?" Henry demanded petulantly.

Regina sighed. "I don't think it would be fair of us to ask Miss Lucas to go to school with you," she said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips at the thought of that conversation. "She has a job that requires her attention."

Though, admittedly, the werewolf had always seemed willing to drop her responsibilities at the diner every time David asked for her help.

But, Regina reminded herself with a shake of her head, allowing Ruby access to the house so that she could watch Henry was merely a necessary compromise. It did _not_ mean that she wanted the other woman to spend much time around her son.

Henry nodded and looked back at David.

He looked so downcast, so hopeless, that Regina found herself reaching and resting a hand on his arm as though she could somehow will her own strength into him. He didn't pull away from her, but he stiffened slightly at the contact and she nearly yanked her hand back.

They had made so much progress. _She_ had made so much progress. Henry had finally started believing in her, believing that she could change, and now he was drifting even further away and she couldn't figure out how to stop it.

She had tried to protect him at the well, and then when he had begged her to have faith in him she had acquiesced against her better judgment, and what had she gotten in return?

Her mother.

"I need to work on a few things," she said finally, offering him the only bribe she could think of in the desperate hope that he would smile at her, "but maybe we could go out this afternoon. We could get lunch at the diner. And ice cream."

Henry nodded glumly. "Fine," he said, not looking at her. There was a moment of silence, then he added, "Do you know how to get Emma and Mary Margaret back yet?"

Regina bit back her annoyance at the question and answered, "No, not yet. But I'm working on it."

"How?" Henry pressed. "How are you working on it? Do you have ideas? Have you done anything yet…?"

"I don't…" Regina started angrily, but cut off the words before she could say anything she would regret. She looked at David's unconscious form, and said in a tone of forced calm, "I don't have any ideas yet, Henry. But I am… I'm _trying_. It's just that with the hat destroyed and the portal closed... well, there aren't a lot of options left and I…"

"You have to," Henry interrupted, looking at her briefly before turning away once more. "You _promised_."

"I know," Regina agreed. "And I meant it. I am going to do everything I can to bring them back." When Henry did not reply, she pressed her fingers lightly under his chin, forcing her to meet his gaze, and said, "You believe me, right? I _am_ doing everything I can."

"I don't… I'm not… I…" Henry stumbled over the words and didn't answer. After a moment, she dropped her hand and he quickly moved away from her, slipping off the chair and kneeling in front of David.

Regina waited, but Henry said nothing else, so she rose to her feet and walked from the room in frustration. She almost slammed the door shut behind her, but instead closed it quietly and leaned against the wall.

She did not have a plan. Her mother was here, and her mother was powerful, and Regina had no idea what she was supposed to do now.

They were safe inside the house, and some part of her wanted to stay here forever, to keep Henry close and let the rest of the town burn if only it would allow her to avoid facing her mother. But Henry would never accept that, and even though she could hold him against his will, it would only make him hate her.

She did not think she could survive his hate - his indifference was already tearing her apart inside.

But she wasn't sure she could survive facing her mother, either. She had not been lying that day that she stood over her mother's dead body and confessed her love, her weakness. Despite everything, she still wanted her mother's approval.

But it would come at too high a cost.

It always did.

She turned and walked into her bedroom. She was exhausted, both emotionally and physically, but that wouldn't matter to anyone. And she couldn't afford to be sloppy. She couldn't afford to make mistakes.

She snatched her telephone up from the nightstand by her table and quickly punched in a number.

Archie Hopper answered after three rings.

"Dr. Hopper," she said briskly, skipping over pleasantries and not bothering to identify herself, "I'm worried about Henry."

"Yes. Ruby told me what happened."

"Of course she did," Regina sneered, irritated that the werewolf was talking about her behind her back and not for a moment trusting that Ruby was even telling the story accurately. "I wonder how different our versions are."

There was a pause, then Archie said, "I take it that Henry is not doing well with this new… development."

"You mean our failure to rescue Miss Swan and Miss Blanchard?" Regina snapped. "No, I would say he is not doing well with that _development_."

"And your mother's arrival?" Archie pressed.

Regina nodded even though she knew Archie couldn't see her. He was one of the few people who actually knew about Cora. Regina had been reluctant to talk about her mother at first, and had done her best to avoid the subject every time Archie asked about it during her therapy sessions. But after everything that had happened with Daniel and Whale…

She'd broken down during that impromptu session and confided all her fears that magic had turned her into her mother.

Regina walked over to her bed and slumped onto the mattress. How could she feel so drained this early in the morning? The day had barely begun.

"I was hoping you would be able to talk to my son," Regina said.

"If he wants to see me…"

"He won't," Regina interrupted.

Henry would never agree to see Archie professionally, not if she was the one who suggested it. It would serve as a reminder of all the times she'd sent Henry to the cricket in the past, hoping that the PhD the curse had given Archie would somehow allow the bug to make Henry stop believing in fairytales and the curse. It hadn't worked, and it had only made Henry hate her more, and if she proposed it now, he would take it as some nefarious plot.

She gritted her teeth at that and tried, once again, to force down the wave of jealousy that arose every time she was forced to confront the knowledge that she _still_ didn't have his trust.

"Ah," Archie said. "Well…"

"I'm taking him to Granny's diner for lunch. Perhaps if you were also there you could…"

"I'm not going to lie to him, Regina," Archie said firmly. "I'm happy to talk to him, but I'm not going to pretend that we didn't set this up."

Regina debated throwing the phone against the wall.

"Fine," she snapped. "Never mind. It was a ridiculous notion anyway."

"I can help. I _want_ to help," Archie protested.

"Don't bother," Regina said, and hung up.

She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. That had failed miserably, though in retrospect it had been a stupid idea. There was no way anyone in this town – even those like Archie who claimed to want to help her – would ever trust her to know what was best for Henry. She couldn't rely on their assistance for connecting with her distant son, which meant that she would have to figure it out on her own.

But that was not so unusual – she'd been alone for a long time, and she'd dealt with it before. She'd dealt with _Henry_ before; she could do it again.

But not now. Now she had to do something else, though she absolutely despised that it was necessary.

She had to find Gold.


	6. Blind Faith

A/N: I forgot to mention earlier... The story isn't going to be a Swan Queen (romantic) pairing. There will be interactions between Regina and Emma eventually as the two try to get along for the sake of protecting Storybrooke and Henry, though, so I suppose you could read it as pre-Swan Queen if you want.

* * *

Chapter Six: Blind Faith

"That is a beautiful necklace," Ruby said as she set the menu down on the table.

Belle glanced down at the necklace around her neck with a smile. "Thank you," she said, reaching up to touch the pendant fondly.

"I haven't seen you wear it before. Is it new?"

Belle laughed lightly. "Ruby, I spent twenty-eight years locked up in a hospital. _Everything_ I own is new."

"Right. Sorry," Ruby apologized with an abashed grin. "I didn't think that question through."

"It was a gift from Rumpelstiltskin," Belle replied. "Well… pretty much everything I own came from him."

Ruby nodded slowly. "Sure," she said awkwardly.

Belle sighed inwardly but said nothing else. She knew her relationship with Rumpelstiltskin was one that no one else understood. In fact, most of the townspeople were more than just baffled by it – they were disgusted and scared. But she firmly believed that all they needed was time to get to see the man that she knew, the man who possessed a heart big enough to love her and his son so completely.

And Ruby was better than most. She at least accepted that Belle loved Rumpelstiltskin – and, begrudgingly, that Rumpelstiltskin loved Belle – even if she did not approve of it.

"Do you know what you want?" Ruby asked, gesturing towards the menu, "or do you need some advice?"

"Well, I've had the pancakes and the hamburger, and they were both wonderful. But maybe I should try something new." She flipped open the menu and glanced over everything quickly, absorbing the words. "What is a mac 'n cheese?"

"Macaroni and cheese," Ruby said with a grin. "That's a good choice. It's a kind of pasta that is smothered in cheese, and Granny makes it the best. She'll sprinkle bacon and breadcrumbs on top if you ask for them."

"You think Granny makes the best of everything," Belle teased.

"She does," Ruby replied loyally. Then she lowered her voice and whispered, "Except hash browns. Twenty-eight years and she still hasn't gotten the hang of that one. But don't tell her I said so."

"Your secret is safe with me," Belle promised wryly. She handed the menu back to Ruby. "The macaroni and cheese with bacon and breadcrumbs sounds wonderful."

"Coming right up."

The waitress departed, and Belle looked around the diner. This world was strange. Everyone else seemed to have two identities, and their Storybrooke identity came with knowledge about the world that they now inhabited. But Regina hadn't given Belle a second identity. Instead, she'd stripped away everything that Belle knew about her previous life and left her mind nearly blank. She recognized cars and computers and other technologies unique to this world, but she had no concept of its history or its culture.

But the confusion and uncertainty brought on by this wasn't something anyone else could grasp – not even Rumpelstiltskin. How could she properly explain just how bizarre it was to know what the Internet was but not mac 'n cheese or hamburgers?

"Belle."

She started at the familiar voice.

"Father."

He slipped into the seat opposite her and took off his hat, placing it carefully on the table between hat said French across the front of it in large letters, a reminder of the man he was now, the man the curse had made of him. But she did not know that man, and in her mind her father would always be Sir Maurice, a noble in the court of King Charles and Prince Thomas and Princess Ella.

"How are you?" he asked, his tone earnest even though he wasn't quite able to meet her gaze.

"I… I am fine."

She lowered her hands to her lap and rubbed at one wrist, remembering the feel of the handcuffs holding her to the cart and the panic at the realization that she was about to forget it all. Her identity, everything she was, everyone she loved - it all would have been ripped away from her.

By her father.

Her anger flared. "What do you want?" she demanded.

"I just wanted to see you, to see how you were doing," Maurice said, an edge to his voice. "Is it so wrong for a father to be concerned for his daughter's welfare?"

"I've seen your ideas of concern," she snapped back, slamming a hand onto the table. She didn't like arguing with him - she didn't like arguing with anyone, and she loved her father despite everything - but she was too angry to allow him back into her life. Her voice was cold as she continued, "I thought I was clear when I said that I never wanted to see you again."

"You were clear when you said that you never wanted to see that monster again, either, but now you're dating him," Maurice countered, his own voice just as cold. But despite the rage in his eyes, there was a hint of whining in his tone.

"He is _not_ a monster!"

"Not a…" Maurice trailed off and shook his head. "Belle, do you have any idea what that… that… _creature_… has done to people?"

"I know what _you_ tried to do to me," Belle retorted fiercely. "I know what you tried to take away from me."

"I was trying to protect you," he said, leaning forward to grab her hand and hold it in his own.

Belle drew back. "You do not get to decide my fate," she said.

A look of hurt flashed across her father's features, and then he leaned back in his seat and said, "You will always be my daughter. No matter how old you are, you will always be my daughter, and I will _always_ want to protect you."

"By removing everything that makes me the person I am?"

Maurice sighed heavily. "Ask around, Belle," he said quietly, almost as though he would regret causing her such pain, though she doubted that was true. "Ask the people here why they hate him so much."

"They don't know him! He is truly trying to change, to be better. He has depth, he has a heart, you just can't see it yet. You don't know him well enough."

"He destroys everything he touches, and he will destroy you, too. Why can't you see that?"

"I _love_ him," Belle said angrily.

"Is everything alright?"

Both Belle and Maurice looked up in surprise, having not noticed Ruby's arrival. The waitress was glowering at Maurice, her arms folded over her chest and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"My father was just leaving," Belle said in a tone of forced calm.

At the same time, Maurice snapped, "This does not concern you, wolf."

Ruby flinched, then shot back, "After what you tried to do to your own daughter, you are far more animal than I am."

"Really? Because at least I don't turn into a wolf and _eat_ people every full moon."

Ruby's face paled and she looked away quickly. The reaction surprised Belle – Ruby seemed so thick-skinned and brave that it was strange for an ill-formed and not particularly creative insult to upset her so much.

"Father, Ruby is my friend," Belle admonished. "You have no right to speak to her like that."

"No right? This is not any of her concern," Maurice argued, his face flushing red at Belle's rebuke. "It is a family conversation, and I will not simply allow her to whisper lies to you."

"Lies?"

"What else am I supposed to think when you prefer the company of a monster and a wolf to your own flesh and blood? She has told you lies about me. She knows she is a freak, so she tries to cut us all down, to bring us to her own wretched level."

Belle rose angrily to her feet. "You have no right, Father!" she said again, her temper snapping at the attack on her friend. Ruby had offered her friendship, support, and a place to stay when she'd had no one, and she would not stand idly by while the waitress was insulted.

Maurice rose to his feet as well and gestured towards the other occupants of the diner. "Ask around, my dear," he practically spat. "Ask the people here what your precious Rumpelstiltskin has done to them in the past. Ask about his deals and his tricks. Ask… or are you too afraid of what they might say?"

Belle looked around the diner. Every single townsperson there looked away the moment she tried to catch their gaze, and even Ruby was uneasy. They would not speak up, would not defend her decisions. They probably agreed with her father, probably thought she was a fool for placing any faith in Rumpelstiltskin.

"I know you want to believe that he has good in his heart, Belle," her father said softly, almost apologetically. "You want to believe the best of everyone, and I love that about you. But this imp has no good inside him."

"You're wrong," Belle growled, backing away.

She needed to get out of the diner and away from her father. She needed time to think – or maybe she needed to see Rumpelstiltskin. She wasn't sure, but it was suddenly too claustrophobic for her in this room with everyone's attention on her.

She turned and fled.

* * *

It wasn't _exactly_ that he thought his mother was lying. It was just that he didn't really believe her.

The distinction made sense in his head, even if he doubted it would make sense should he ever utter the words aloud. So when she had asked if he believed that she was going to do everything she could to bring back Emma and Mary Margaret, he hadn't been able to answer because he _didn't_ believe her but he knew that if he said that she would think he was accusing her of lying, and he _wasn't_.

He slid into a booth at the diner and watched as his mother walked over to Ruby. Ruby had given him a smile when they entered, but had given his mother a glare. He wasn't really sure why, but Ruby looked angrier than she had last night.

And as soon as his mother approached the waitress, the two started arguing.

"Hi, Henry."

He smiled automatically as Archie took the seat across from him.

"I thought I might find you here," Archie said by way of explanation. "Your mother called this morning. She wanted me to talk to you and..."

"She can't make me," Henry interrupted immediately. He paused, realizing how that must have sounded, and said quickly, "I mean, I like talking to you. But she can't make me go back to the sessions. She can't control what I think."

"She's not trying to," Archie replied soothingly.

Henry frowned. It was true that his mother hadn't tried to control his opinions since she'd let him stay with David, but she _had_ done it in the past.

He chewed his lip and looked down at the table.

"She's worried about you, Henry," Archie said gently. "She knows how you much you wanted Emma and Mary Margaret to return. She knows how much you miss them. She just wants…" Archie paused for a moment, as though trying to figure out the right words, then said, "She wants to make sure that you have someone to talk to about this."

Henry hesitated. There was so much he wanted to say, so much buried inside of him that desperately needed to come out. He hadn't been able to say any of it to his mother, and had only managed to hint at it to Ruby. Could he tell Archie? Would the psychologist understand?

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words became stuck and finally he ended up blurting out, "They'll come back eventually. Emma and Mary Margaret. They'll come back – they have to. Good wins. Good _always_ wins."

There was desperation in those words, though, and doubt.

"It's just a setback," he pushed on. "It's just… it's unexpected, but…"

He didn't know why he kept talking, why the words were still coming out. Was he trying to convince Archie of this, or himself?

But wasn't it true? Good always won. _Always_. Just like Prince James and Snow White always found each other. They would again…

They _would_.

They _had to_.

"Good doesn't always win," Archie said softly. "I know this is hard for you to understand, Henry, but sometimes Evil has the upper-hand and..."

Henry rolled his eyes and snapped moodily, "I know Evil wins _some_ of the battles."

He _did_ know that – he'd witnessed it first hand when the curse had taken Graham. He wasn't as naïve of a child as Archie was implying. He'd read his book cover to cover and he'd seen all the times that evil won, but there was a difference between winning a battle and winning the war. And…

"Good always triumphs in the end," he said stoutly.

Archie sighed. "For years, my parents and I stole from innocent people, Henry."

"I know," Henry insisted, annoyed. "I read the story."

"I killed two people. I turned them into puppets."

"That was an accident," Henry protested. "Your parents' tricked you. And besides, Good did win in the end. You escaped your parents, you became better, and you helped people."

"Yes… but at what cost?" Archie replied pointedly. "Geppetto's parents?" Henry wrapped his arms around himself, uncomfortable with Archie's words, but the psychologist pressed on anyway, "I might have finally escaped my parents and been given the chance to start over, but they're still dead. My happy ending cost two innocent people their lives, and all the Good in the land couldn't undo that."

Henry didn't know what to say. The story hadn't been about Geppetto's parents, so he hadn't really given them much thought. Jiminy had been the main character, and the story had been about his redemption…

And he had been redeemed, so didn't that make it a happy ending?

He didn't want to think about that, or about Emma and Mary Margaret and Cora, or about all the things his mother had said in the woods. He didn't want to talk about it, either, but somehow the words still came out of his mouth, "I really thought Emma and Mary Margaret would defeat Cora."

His voice sounded small and weak even to his own ears.

"I know," Archie said.

"My mom says that she's going to try to get them back, but how can I believe her?"

"Do you think she's lying to you?" Archie asked curiously.

"I… no. I mean… I don't know. She told me she was trying to help them before and she and Gold stole fairy dust and…"

"Why did she steal the fairy dust?" Archie interrupted.

Henry paused. "She said it was to protect me," he admitted. "She was trying to stop Cora from coming through. I… she… I begged her to lift the spell, and she did, and then…"

Then Cora had come through.

His eyes were burning with unshed tears and he wiped them away quickly even as his insides twisted with guilt. This was all his fault, wasn't it? The fear he had seen on his mother's face, the power he had felt during the confrontation by the well… it was because of him. Because he had begged his mother to undo the spell. Because he had been convinced that Emma and Mary Margaret would win.

Good always won.

"It wasn't your fault," Archie said gently, resting his hand on top of Henry's. "You didn't know that Cora would come through, just like Regina and Gold didn't know that Cora _wouldn't_ come through. All of you were trying to do what you thought was best."

Henry nodded glumly. It was true that he had been trying to do what was best - and if Emma and Mary Margaret _had_ defeated Cora, and if they _had_ tried to come through the portal, and if the spell _had_ killed him...

That had been unthinkable. That had been even more unthinkable than Cora coming through the portal, and he hadn't been willing to take the chance with their lives. His mother and Mr. Gold might have been willing to risk it, but he wasn't. Not for anything.

He chewed his lip some more, then asked diffidently, "Do you think Emma and Mary Margaret are alright?"

"Yes," Archie answered firmly.

Henry sniffled. "Are you saying that just to make me feel better?"

Archie smiled slightly, and replied, "Between Mary Margaret's determination and Regina's magic, I think they'll find their way back somehow."

"Did my mother ever talk to you about Daniel?"

The words came out before Henry even realized that he was asking them. It wasn't a question he wanted to ask – in fact, the entire topic was not something he wanted to think about. It was dangerous to contemplate everything he didn't know about his mother's past. It was threatening to turn his world entirely upside-down, and that had already happened too much lately.

But at the same time, it was the reason he wasn't sure he could believe his mother, it was the reason he wasn't even able to look at her. It was the reason he was starting to have doubts about all the knowledge he had taken for granted, so how could he not ask?

"Daniel?" Archie repeated, surprised. "Yes, she mentioned him." A pause, then, "Did she talk to you about him?"

Henry shook his head. "No, not really. He… at the stables, he… tried to hurt me."

"Yes, Regina told me about that."

Henry chewed his lip again. "She didn't tell me," he said softly. "She and my grandfather came in and told me to run, and I did… Later, when I asked David what had happened, he told me that my mom had stopped Daniel. I asked him who Daniel was and he… he just said that Daniel was someone my mother had known a long time ago, and that he had been killed…" He trailed off.

"Did you ask your mother about him?" Archie questioned.

"No," Henry whispered. "I didn't… I didn't think it mattered. I didn't think… David said that he and my mom knew each other, so I just assumed that he worked for the Evil Queen. Or maybe was an ally of hers... I didn't… I…"

_I was young, and I had met my true love, my happy ending, but my mother thought he made me weak, so she ripped his heart out and crushed it in front of me._

His mother's words echoed in his head. He couldn't forget them, couldn't forget the raw pain and fury echoing in her voice as she shouted at Ruby.

"He died long before your mother became the Evil Queen," Archie said. "Daniel and your mother were in love."

"I know," Henry answered in a murmur.

It had taken a little while to put the pieces together. His mother had been upset after the incident with Daniel, but she hadn't allowed her emotions to show in front of him, and so he hadn't known just how much it had affected her. And when she'd made the sleeping curse for David, she'd told him that the only other time she'd used magic was to deal with the situation with Daniel. He'd heard the way her voice had broken over that name, but he hadn't give it much thought. He'd still just assumed that Daniel had been someone she had known, and perhaps that they had been friendly, but...

He rubbed at his eyes. Maybe he hadn't wanted to think about it. Maybe he'd known how much the truth to this story could hurt.

But while his mother had worked on the protection spell for their house, Henry had sat next to David's still form and contemplated Regina's words to Ruby, and that was when he had realized that his mother's true love and Daniel had been one and the same.

And yet…

"Did she say… how he… died?" Henry asked.

Archie didn't answer right away. Instead, he studied Henry's expression carefully, as though looking for something.

"Why do you want to know?" Archie asked.

"Daniel isn't in the book."

And there it was, finally out in the open.

There was nothing about Daniel in the book. There was nothing about Regina's childhood in the book. In fact, the first mention of her came after she had already been married to King Leopold for several years. It came at that point that she and the genie conspired to kill the king.

Henry had truly believed that the book told all of the relevant stories about people living in the Enchanted Forest. And because the first story of the Evil Queen had involved her manipulating a lovesick genie into committing murder, he had simply assumed that she had always been evil.

Or, at least, that the reason she had become evil didn't matter.

So either his mother had lied to Ruby about Daniel's death, vilifying her own mother and setting herself up to be a victim in the hopes of gaining Ruby's sympathy and possibly even trust…

Or the book had lied.

Henry blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears. "Is it bad that I want my mother to be lying about him?" he asked.

Archie's expression registered surprise at the question, but then a knowing look came into his eyes. "If your mother is lying," he said quietly, "then Daniel isn't in the book because none of that really happened. But if she's not lying, then the book is omitting stories… and if it left out something that important, what else could it have left out?"

"What if it is lying? I don't understand how… why… If Cora really killed Daniel, then… how am I supposed to… I _believed_ in it…"

He couldn't put into words how betrayed he felt. First Emma and Mary Margaret hadn't come through the portal, and then he'd discovered that his mother had suffered an unthinkable tragedy and the book had decided that her loss was irrelevant. Everything he had believed in was turning out to be wrong.

He wanted Archie to say something that would make his world make sense again. Although some part of him recognized that it would be impossible, he didn't want to admit that things were changing and he no longer knew who or what to believe. He wanted Archie to fix everything.

But Archie didn't get the chance to say anything.

"And I assure you, Miss Lucas, that I had nothing to do with anything Mr. French said, though I do think he had a point."

Regina's angry voice echoed in the diner, and there was a sudden stillness as all eyes turned towards the former Evil Queen and the werewolf.

"A point? He said that…"

"That Rumple had caused suffering and destroyed lives? That he had been desperate to protect his daughter from a monster? I understand that your darling librarian might be upset at the way her father went about dealing with his fears, but can you really blame him for not trusting the imp?"

"It doesn't give him the right to…"

"Yes, yes, it isn't fair to forcefully push someone over the town line," Regina said. "Really, dear, you don't need to keep belaboring _that_ point, I've already agreed with you on it."

Ruby turned away and stalked behind the counter. "And you are sure that you…"

"Did not send Moe French here to start an argument with his daughter and then insult you? Don't be ridiculous, Miss Lucas. How would that _possibly_ help me?" Regina replied derisively. When Ruby didn't answer, she added, "I can assure you that there are many people in this town besides me who don't particularly like wolves. Or Rumpelstiltskin. Perhaps one of them got to Mr. French. Or possibly the man grew a backbone and came up with the idea of confronting his daughter himself." She paused, considering this option, then said, "Admittedly, that one does seem less likely."

The corners of Ruby's lips twitched at that comment.

Then she scowled and said, "Fine. You had nothing to do with Belle's father. So why are you here?"

"I, unfortunately, do need to find Gold. He has not answered my phone calls, so I will have to track him down on foot. And I need you to watch Henry until I get back."

"Wait. You're not staying for lunch?" Henry asked in surprise, interrupting the conversation between the two irate women.

His mother turned, and her eyes narrowed when she noticed Archie sitting across from him in the booth. She pursed her lips for a moment, glaring at the psychologist, then said, "No, dear. I need to find Gold. But you will be safe enough with Miss Lucas until I return." She turned towards the waitress. "You _will_ call me if anything happens."

"Nothing is going to happen. I am perfectly capable of protecting him," Ruby said, bristling.

Regina rolled her eyes. "You people _really_ need to stop underestimating my mother," she snapped.

Regina did not wait for Ruby to reply, but instead walked over to Archie. "I didn't think you were coming, bug," she said coldly.

"I meant it when I said I wanted to help," Archie protested.

"Good for you," Regina replied sardonically.

"Look, Henry just wanted to know about Daniel and your mother and I…"

"You _told_ him?" Regina interrupted before Archie could finish the statement. Her eyes had narrowed even further and her voice shook as she hissed, "Everything I told you about Daniel and my mother was in confidence."

"I'm trying to help…"

"Help? By betraying patient confidentiality?" She leaned forward, planting her palms on the table and moving into Archie's personal space, "Daniel is _not_ fodder for this town's gossip."

"Mom!" Henry interrupted loudly, "Mom, it's fine. He didn't tell me anything that I didn't already guess."

Regina's expression softened slightly as she turned towards her son, and she said in a gentler tone, "Perhaps, dear, but Dr. Hopper is still required to respect the privacy of our sessions."

"He's just trying to help," Henry protested.

Regina expelled a breath sharply and said in a low tone, "Yes, well, I'm getting rather tired of everyone's version of helping. Too many strings attached." To Archie, she said threateningly, "You will not divulge any of our conversations to anyone, not even my son. Is that clear?" Then, without waiting for a reply, she turned to Henry and added, "I'll be back in an hour or so. I have my cell phone with me, so you can call me if you need anything."

"Alright," Henry said.

Regina gave Archie one last glare, then stalked from the diner.

* * *

"Rumple? Are you in here?" Belle called out, stepping into the back of the pawnshop and looking around. The shop had been closed, but she had keys to the shop and his home, and she was determined to find him.

He hadn't answered his phone.

She was worried. She'd seen him just the day before, but he'd hurried away, giving some excuse about needing to address the potential arrival of this woman Cora. She hadn't made any concrete plans to see him after that so she hadn't thought much about his absence yesterday evening, but it _was_ unusual for her not see him at least once a day, particularly since the threat of Cora had been brought to his attention.

And it was even more unusual for him not to answer her phone calls.

She knew he could protect himself from any and all attacks. She wasn't afraid that he would be hurt. But…

What if, in defending himself, he went too far? What if he let his anger overwhelm him? What if he did something he couldn't take back?

He was trying too change. Belle knew that, even if no one else could see it. But that didn't mean that the change would be easy, or that he wouldn't be tempted, and she wanted to be there for him. She wanted to help him so that he wouldn't give in to his hate.

"He's not here."

She spun around to find herself face-to-face with a woman dressed in an elegant blue gown and a cloak that draped over her shoulders and fastened at her chest. The woman was not particularly tall, but something about her still made Belle feel small.

"Who… who are you?"

"Cora," the woman said. Belle flinched, and Cora smiled. "You've heard of me, I see?"

"What do you want?" Belle demanded.

"I was looking for Rumpelstiltskin, my dear. Just like you." She glanced around, and added, "But it would appear that he is not here."

"No… no, I suppose he's not," Belle agreed. "Well… I'll just be going now." And she started edging around Cora quickly.

"You know," Cora said thoughtfully, catching Belle's arm in a light grip, "I've never heard anyone but my daughter refer to him as Rumple. Tell me, do you hate him as much as she does?"

"I…" Belle started, and then stopped.

Cora appeared to have no idea of the relationship between Rumpelstiltskin and Belle. Very few people had known about it – in fact, Regina, Belle's family, and the man who had freed her from her prison in the hospital were probably the only ones who had even known that Belle knew Rumpelstiltskin. And if Belle was to believe her father, then he hadn't known that she was in love with Rumpelstiltskin until recently. So it was entirely conceivable that Cora didn't know.

Or this was all a ruse.

Both Regina and Rumpelstiltskin had indicated that it was not a good idea to underestimate Cora, and she really had no way of knowing how much the other woman knew or what she was capable of doing in order to achieve her ends.

"That is a beautiful necklace," Cora said. She rested one finger on the pendant and smiled. "Very beautiful indeed."

Belle blinked. She had no idea why everyone was suddenly so fascinated by the necklace. She didn't even know why she had put it on this morning. She hadn't really liked it when Rumpelstiltskin had given it to her – the pendant was so ornate it bordered on gaudy – though she had no intention of ever telling him that. She'd thought it was sweet that he had wanted to give it to her, even if she'd had no desire to wear it.

Belle pulled her arm out of Cora's grip, doing her best to not to look flustered or scared, and said, "Thank you. I really should be going, though. I…"

"Need to find Rumple?" Cora supplied. "You are brave for facing him. And you don't have magic, do you? Even braver, then."

"Yes… well…"

Cora reached into the folds of her cloak and extracted a small vial filled with a glowing liquid. She held it out to Belle. "This is a tracking potion. Pour it on something that belongs to the person you are trying to find, and it will lead you to him."

"I don't need magic to find him," Belle said sharply. Then, realizing how rude that sounded and still wary about making an enemy out of the dangerous and powerful woman standing before her, she added quickly, "But thank you for your help."

"Of course," Cora said, pocketing the vial. "Well, I am sure you will find Rumple soon, even without magic. And when you do, my dear, can you give him a message from me?"

Belle nodded wordlessly.

"Tell him… tell him I am interested in making a deal."


	7. Cracks in Our Armor

Chapter Seven: Cracks in Our Armor

In the end, though, Belle did not find Rumpelstiltskin. He found her.

The door to the library pushed open, and sunlight streamed into the room. Belle glanced up from her spot between the stacks, relief flooding her as she saw him appear.

"Rumple," she breathed, stepping towards him. "I was so worried. That woman… _Cora_. She's here, in Storybrooke."

"I know," he said grimly.

Belle felt a flicker of surprise at that admission, and a hint of unease. How long had he known? Why hadn't he told her?

She took his hands in hers and squeezed tightly, trying to push aside her concerns. "She was in your shop, looking for you."

His eyes darkened. "You saw her? Did she hurt you?" he asked, his tone dangerous.

"No, no," Belle said quickly, rushing to assure him that she was unharmed. "She just… I'm not sure she even knew who I was. Or maybe she did… I don't… I don't know." She paused, realizing that she was rambling, and said more slowly, "She knew I was looking for you, though. She said she was looking for you as well. She wanted to make a deal."

"A deal?" he repeated almost derisively. But there was a pensive expression in his gaze, and something else, something guarded. Neither he nor Regina had been particularly forthcoming on his past relationship with Cora, and Belle couldn't stop the worry from eating away at her.

She frowned. "Rumple, what _happened_?"

"Miss Blanchard and Miss Swan were supposed to come through a portal at the wishing well yesterday…"

"The well you used to bring back magic?"

"Yes."

Belle chewed her lip. "They didn't come through," she said softly. "Cora did instead." She hesitated, not wanting to ask the question but knowing that she needed to, "Are they dead?"

"Cora indicated that they were alive when she left them, and I don't believe she was lying."

Belle nodded in relief. She didn't know either of them, but they were Ruby's friends and she didn't want them to come to any harm.

Then she asked, "Yesterday? I haven't seen you since then."

"I've been busy."

"Doing what?" Belle pressed. She was the one who had insisted on space from him, so she couldn't complain over the fact that he hadn't rushed to her side the moment Cora had appeared. But it did strike her as odd – what could he have been doing that was more important than ensuring her safety?

Even in her head the question sounded petty and self-centered.

But she was afraid of what could happen if he were to become involved in whatever Cora wanted. No matter what he said about being more powerful than the other woman, Belle knew that he was afraid of Cora, afraid of what she might do.

And Belle was afraid of what he might be forced to do to stop Cora.

He smiled slightly and help up an opaque yellow wand with a blue handle. The length of the wand glittered as it caught the light. "Fairy dust. Required for the wand."

"Will it work against Cora?"

"It will help."

* * *

"People in this land are so very… strange. They ride in horseless carriages and talk into tiny metal boxes."

Rumpelstiltskin turned towards her, his knuckles tightening on the top of his cane until they turned a bloodless white. "I heard you were looking for me," he said, not bothering with pleasantries.

Well, she hadn't expected anything different.

"I was," Cora replied, letting the door to the shop close behind her. "Your Belle is quite… sweet. A bit timid, though. I thought you went for women with a bit more… spirit."

Her eyes twinkled at the insinuation in her words, but he did not take the bait. "What makes you think Belle means anything to me?" was his calm reply.

There was no emotion in his answer, not even a flicker in his eyes, but Cora knew better. She didn't know the extent of his feelings for this Belle, but they were there, and they were real.

"Tell me, would you prefer Rumpelstiltskin or… what is it they call you in this land? Gold?"

His eyes narrowed and he replied with a thin-lipped smile and a tone as cold as ice, "I preferred it when you called me Master."

She laughed. "I do so enjoy our repartee, _Master_."

"I heard you were looking for me."

"So Belle _did_ give you the message. Good." She smiled, stepping closer. "I would have given you the message myself, but you just… _disappeared_."

"Well, you've wasted your time," he replied, spitting out the words. "I have no desire to make a deal with you."

"You haven't even heard what I am willing to offer," Cora replied.

"It won't make a difference."

She raised her eyebrows. "You've been operating in secret since yesterday, and now you suddenly appear so soon after I pass along my message to Belle, and yet you expect me to believe that you _aren't_ interested? Have you forgotten how much time I spent learning from you? I know how you think, how you operate."

"You don't know anywhere near as much as you think you do," he replied. "Your arrogance always was your greatest fault. It will be your downfall this time, just as it was before."

"Hmm… we will see."

"Yes, Cora, I imagine we will. Now…" He gestured towards the door of the pawnshop, "I believe you can show yourself out?"

"As you wish," Cora replied, turning away from him and walking towards the door. "Perhaps I will pay Belle another visit. I would be interested to see if I can find any fire underneath her sweet exterior."

"Go ahead. I assure you, the inhabitants of this town mean nothing to me."

She shrugged. "Very well. But Rumple…" She paused at the door, looking back at him with a smirk curling her lips. "If you really wish to continue this bluff, I should at least tell you that I _saw_ the necklace she was wearing."

He swallowed, and then she saw it, the telltale flicker of something in his eyes. She waited, but when he said nothing, she merely turned and pushed the door open, content to leave.

"What are you offering?" he asked, his voice calling her back.

"My promise not to harm Belle."

"You _can't_ harm her."

"Not directly…" Cora admitted reluctantly. "But imagine, Rumple, all the ways in which she could come to some… _indirect_… harm."

"If you hurt her, you must know I will kill you," he growled, his voice low.

"I know," Cora agreed. "But what good will that do? We both know that even your power can't bring back the dead."

He considered this, his face still carefully blank. "And what do you want in return?"

She had him then, and she knew it. Love _was_ weakness.

"I have plans for my daughter," Cora replied softly. "I will leave Belle out of my plans, if, in return, you refrain from interfering in what I want." She waited while he considered this, then asked, "Do we have a deal?"

"Not quite," he replied evenly. "I have plans as well. As long as you _refrain_ from interfering in them… _and_ stay away from Belle… _then_ we have a deal."

She hesitated, knowing how dangerous it was to make a deal when she didn't know the details of his plans. But she also knew that he wouldn't tell her what they were, and if she wanted his promise to stay out of her way, she needed to agree to whatever he wanted.

She weighed her options, then nodded.

"Very well." She extended her hand to meet his, and felt a crackle of electricity as their fingers touched, a sign of the agreement being struck with their magic, "Deal."

* * *

After over an hour of searching for him, Regina was both surprised and annoyed to find Gold in his pawnshop. It was the first place she had looked after leaving Granny's diner, but it had been empty. Now he stood behind the counter, leaning his weight slightly on his cane and staring thoughtfully at the wand they had used to create the trap over the portal.

"Gold," she said without preamble. "We need to talk."

He glanced up at her. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before you tried to destroy everything around you yesterday."

"That was not intentional," she snapped. She knew he was merely trying to needle her – whatever Gold thought of her, he had enough experience with magic to know that what had happened yesterday when she had tried to protect herself against her mother's magic had been an accident.

Besides, she would never have intentionally put Henry in harm's way.

He lowered his gaze back to the wand, ignoring her.

Her temper flared, but she bit it back. As much as she wanted to snap at him, the pressure that had been building against her eyes all morning was a clear signal that if she did let loose, she would probably end up losing control of her magic as well.

She really shouldn't have absorbed all that energy, but Henry had begged and…

She pushed the thought away. It wasn't relevant to the matter at hand.

"We need to discuss a plan…"

"I'm not interested," Gold interrupted her.

"You're not… interested?" Regina repeated in disbelief. "Cora is _here_."

"I am aware of that, your Majesty," he said with a sneer. "I was standing at the well when she came through." He met her gaze then. "And might I remind you that this problem is entirely of _your_ doing. We had a plan to prevent Cora's arrival, and it would have worked if you hadn't…"

"It doesn't matter," Regina cut in, unwilling to hear him gloat. She knew that this was her fault, that if she hadn't listened to Henry and allowed herself to be swayed by his pleas, none of them would be in this position. But she couldn't take back what she had done, and Cora was in Storybrooke, and that really _should_ have put her and Gold on the same side.

But he was wearing that damn smile and she knew without even really thinking about it that any argument would be useless.

Her anger flared, and the pressure behind her eyes grew, causing small black dots to appear in her vision.

"Why?" she asked sharply.

"Hm… quite simple, dearie. Your problems no longer concern me."

"_My_ problems? Need I remind you that Cora has always shown an interest in _both_ of us?"

Gold met her gaze unflinchingly. "And I am more than capable of protecting what is mine." He limped out from behind the counter, resting his weight on his cane. "So I suggest you spend your time worrying about yourself and those things that are yours."

Regina shook her head furiously but knew there was little she could do at the moment. "This isn't over, imp," she snarled, before spinning on her heel and marching out of the shop.

As the door swung shut behind her, she heard him reply, "Yes, it is."

* * *

"You! Mr. French!" Ruby called out, anger making her words shake as she stormed across the street towards the man in question.

Moe French turned towards her, a look of derision on his features. He was standing outside of his flower shop, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a ledger in the other. As she approached, he placed the flowers on the ground by his feet, slid the ledger under one arm, and folded his arms over his chest.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"Stay away from Belle," Ruby said tersely.

His eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing together, and he retorted, "My relationship with my daughter is none of your concern."

"She's my friend," Ruby answered.

He pursed his lips together. "She's my _daughter_. And she was separated from me for a very long time."

The simplicity of that statement brought Ruby up short for a moment, but then she shook her head to clear her compassionate thoughts. While she sympathized with anyone who had lost family for twenty-eight years because of Regina's curse, the simple fact that he was Belle's family was not enough to overcome what he had nearly done to her.

"You didn't treat her like she mattered to you," Ruby replied coolly.

"What do you know of caring for a daughter?" he replied, his words angry and scornful.

"I know how you treat family," Ruby countered, struggling to remain calm in the face of his contempt. His words angered her more than she wanted to let on, and her temper was on a particularly short leash at the moment. She was too tired and too frustrated to deal with this pompous little man lecturing her on family.

Regina had returned from her search for Gold in a far worse mood than when she had left, and had snapped at everyone in the diner. Her words had been harsh and her tone even harsher, and at one point Ruby had almost expected her grandmother to storm around the counter and slap the one-time queen.

But in the end Regina had simply snatched up Henry and stalked away, leaving a trail of angry citizens in her wake.

Ruby had spent the next hour trying to reassure the patrons of the diner that everything was under control, but because her involvement with Regina's plans was now somehow well-known – thanks to how quickly gossip spread in this little town – she had been met with many resentful and fearful stares.

She supposed she couldn't really blame the town's inhabitants for being worried. Regina was powerful, and dangerous. And yet somehow David had always managed to allay everyone's fears, to project a sense of calm and control that she had yet to master.

She sighed. "Look, Mr. French…"

"My name," Mr. French said, drawing himself up to his still unimpressive full height, "is Maurice. And you have no authority over me."

She blinked.

The Moe French she had known before the curse had broken had been quiet and timid. Although she'd only crossed paths with him a few times during those twenty-eight years, every time she'd seen him he'd been scurrying away, like a rat trying to avoid capture. He'd lacked any sort of backbone, and let people – usually Gold – walk all over him.

She didn't know Maurice. She'd never met him back in the land they had come from, though his name had come up every now and then. He'd been a minor noble, and as such, his title and his lands had been known to Snow and James. But he hadn't been part of their court – they weren't his King and Queen – and so she'd never had a reason to give him much thought.

But Belle had mentioned him once, after he'd tried to send her over the town line. Ruby had been trying to empathize with the distraught woman by explaining that she, too, knew what it was like to have a parent want you to do something that went against everything you believed in.

And Belle had smiled sadly, looked up at Ruby with a distant gaze, and said, "My father cared about his subjects. He loved them, he did, and I know that he loved me. But he was never brave, and he was never strong."

But the man standing in front of her was currently defying all of her expectations of Moe French and Belle's description of Sir Maurice.

"Why now?" Ruby demanded.

"What?"

"You haven't bothered to speak to Belle since your failed attempt at erasing her memory. Why now? What changed?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but I miss her," Mr. French replied in a clipped tone. "She is my daughter…" He gave her a pointed look, and said, "And not all of us were as lucky as you."

"_Lucky_?" Ruby asked incredulously.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that their argument had caught the attention of a few bystanders, and they were starting to draw a crowd.

"Well… I was separated from my daughter," Mr. French said calmly. "And how many other family's were torn apart by the Evil Queen? How many people did she separate from their loved ones, removing all memory of their relationships?" He tilted his head to the side. "But not you. You and your grandmother remained together, remained a _family_. Yes… I would call that _lucky_."

"That wasn't… that's not… I don't…"

Ruby didn't actually have an answer for that, and after stuttering through the beginnings of replies she couldn't finish, she lapsed into silence.

"But maybe it wasn't luck," Mr. French continued, his voice growing viciously cold. "After all, you're now working with her, aren't you? Were you working with her all along?"

"Of course not!" Ruby snarled, flushing darkly at the accusation. "How could you even think that?"

"Then why did she leave you with your grandmother when she tore the rest of us apart?"

"I don't know, but I assure you that she and I were _never_ working together! I wouldn't have betrayed Snow like that," Ruby seethed.

This confrontation was not going the way she had planned. Not, of course, that she'd really planned it at all.

After Regina had snatched up Henry and left the diner, Ruby had been left alone, confronted by her complete helplessness. She had to rely on Regina for help in protecting her grandmother, Henry, David, and the rest of Storybrooke from Cora, and she did not like having to put her faith in someone she didn't trust.

She'd been angry enough at the entire situation – at Regina's snarky comments and the distrust she'd read in the gazes of people she had at least been friendly with before the curse broke – to want to exert her control somehow, and when she'd seen Moe French standing outside his flower shop, she had seized the opportunity to confront him, to order him away from Belle.

And now he was accusing her of working with the Evil Queen.

"Then throw her in jail where she belongs," Mr. French ordered tersely.

"We need her help right now," Ruby argued. "And… she is trying to change." She wasn't sure whether she actually believed that statement, but she had to say it because what other defense did she have?

"Who cares?" Mr. French countered. "She ruined our lives." He gestured towards the crowd that had gathered to listen to their argument. "She took away our happy endings, _wolf_. What does it matter if she can change? Can she take back what she did? Can she give us back what she stole?" He paused, as though waiting for a reply that they both knew Ruby couldn't give, before adding, "She deserves to be punished for what she did to us."

"You don't get to decide what happens to Regina," Ruby answered.

"And you do?" he demanded. "Why? What right do you have over the rest of us? Why do your wants and your needs matter more than mine?"

A murmur of agreement raced through the few people watching, and Ruby shivered. Mr. French was making an emotional and fairly well-reasoned argument to discredit her, and everyone else was buying it.

She knew that she still wasn't well-loved in this town, even if everyone now knew she wasn't responsible for Billy's murder. It was hard for them to let go of the fact that she was a werewolf, a monster in their eyes. Snow and James might have been loved, but she was only ever tolerated, and she could not command loyalty the way they could.

And yet…

All of this seemed so out of character for Mr. French. Why was he standing up to her now? Was it just a coincidence that he was trying to get to Belle, trying to trample over Ruby, now when David was no longer awake to intervene?

Who had given him the idea, who had helped him come up with these arguments?

Who was pulling his strings?

"We're done here," Mr. French said. "Stay out of my relationship with Belle, and stay out of my way."

He picked up the bouquet of flowers again and walked into his shop. The crowd slowly dispersed, and Ruby let him go, knowing that any move she made to stop him would likely backfire on her.

But she still felt a prickle of unease run down her spine. Something was very wrong here. Something was happening behind the scenes, something she didn't like and didn't trust. She needed to talk to someone about this, needed to get a second opinion on the matter to ensure that she wasn't just unduly paranoid.

She turned back towards the diner. Maybe her grandmother would be able to offer some insight.

* * *

Regina slammed the knife against the chicken breast with all her strength and watched as the blade sliced cleanly through the meat. She paused for a moment, envisioning Gold's neck in place of the chicken, and was able to take just a little bit of pleasure from that. But the brief pleasure quickly faded, and she slammed the knife down again, slicing a chicken leg free of the accompanying thigh.

Her mother had gotten to Gold.

There was no other explanation for what had happened, for the way that treacherous little imp had turned on her. One way or another, Cora had found Gold's weakness and exploited it. And now Gold had withdrawn his assistance and Cora was clearly plotting something and…

Regina placed the knife on the counter and closed her eyes for a moment. She was alone, surrounded by enemies and fools. How was she supposed to protect Henry?

The day had been a waste. Her mother had been here for over twenty-four hours and Regina still had no plan, no way of stopping her. The protection spell might keep them safe inside the house, but that wasn't good enough.

No doubt Cora would find some way around it if given enough time.

She sighed and opened her eyes. Everything seemed to be falling apart, but life went on anyway, and that meant that she needed to finish preparing dinner.

She scooped up the chicken and placed it in a baking pan, then pulled oil and spices off the shelf and began to mix them together. She worked quickly, methodically, and without paying much attention to what she was doing. She'd made this meal many times before, and could probably have done it in her sleep.

And her mind was still stuck on Gold and how much she wanted to wring his neck.

And no doubt Belle was somehow involved in this as well.

Regina curled her lip. The girl had been a useful pawn when locked away, but now she was starting to be far more trouble than acquiring her had been worth.

She slid the chicken into the oven and set the timer. It would take a while to finish cooking, and she knew she should check on Henry while she waited.

He had been silent after they left the diner, but she knew her son and she knew that even his current sullen and morose state would not stop the curiosity he felt now that he had been told more about Daniel.

And Regina didn't want to face the questions that were sure to come.

But she also knew that she couldn't lie to him about this. She could tone down the details – no need for him to know absolutely everything – but she could not outright lie.

She took a deep breath, steeled herself to face whatever he had to say, and marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room.

He was sitting on his bed when she knocked lightly on the door to announce her presence, and for the first time since Cora's appearance, he looked up at her and held her gaze without flinching away.

"Dinner will be ready at six," Regina said, stepping into the room.

Henry nodded. "Mom…" he started, and then stopped. He struggled for a moment, clearly unable to come up with the right words, but he did not look away from her.

"Yes?" she prompted.

He let out a breath. "I miss school."

Regina smiled sadly, but pointed out, "You've only been gone one day."

"I know," Henry said. "But I don't want to miss all of it. I don't want to… I've got friends there, and I don't want to fall behind."

Regina sat down across from him on the bed. "We'll figure something out," she promised, wondering vaguely if she'd just broken her vow to be honest with her son.

But Henry seemed to accept that without argument, and instead blurted out, "What was Daniel like?"

Regina had been prepared for the question – or, at least, she thought she had. But hearing Daniel's name coming from Henry's lips made her heart clench painfully in her chest and she was the one who had to look away.

She didn't know what to say. How was she supposed to explain everything Daniel was to her? How could she put into words what it felt like to hold his hand or look into his eyes or kiss?

"He was… wonderful with horses," she said at last. She cleared her throat. "He worked in the stables at my father's estate."

"You fell in love with someone who worked for you?" Henry asked in surprise.

Regina winced inwardly. Henry didn't say anything else, but she knew what he was thinking – how could she have fallen in love with someone who was so far beneath her? It did not fit the image he had in his mind of the Evil Queen.

"I did," she said.

There was so much she could say – that she was different then, that she had been a better person, someone actually worthy of being his mother. But she wasn't sure how much he would believe, so she said nothing else.

"He died."

It had been phrased as a statement, not a question, and Regina knew that Henry already knew some of it. She hadn't meant for him to find out about Daniel the way he had – not from Archie, not from David, and certainly not from the angry words she had shouted at Ruby in the woods. But since the curse had broken there had never been a right time to tell Henry about her past.

And she hadn't always been sure that he would even care.

Regina swallowed, her throat dry, and said, "He did. I… we tried to keep our romance a secret from my mother, but she found out and… killed him. So that I would be free to marry Leopold."

"Snow's father."

"Yes."

"Is that why you… is Daniel's death the reason you became…"

"Evil?" Regina pursed her lips. She didn't like the term evil – it was far too black and white for a reality made up of shades of gray. But she had definitely been somewhere in the darker shades of gray for most of her adult life, and she couldn't pretend otherwise. The things she had done, the lives she had ruined, the pleasure she had taken from it…

It had been a long time since she had been anything close to Good.

"It… started everything," Regina said. "But it took a while. I… changed… while I was learning magic from Rumpelstiltskin."

"Rumpelstiltskin taught you magic?" Henry asked incredulously.

Regina nodded. "He did. And I… I wasn't very good at it. I was holding onto Daniel, holding onto some hope that I could… that I could bring him back even though he was… dead. It wasn't until I let go of Daniel that I became good at magic, and… well… Daniel's memory was what had been…"

"Keeping you good," Henry supplied when Regina didn't finish the sentence.

Regina nodded again. It was a simplified version of events that left out Snow's role in Daniel's death, her banishment of her mother, Frankenstein and Jefferson, and the disastrous relationship with Leopold. But it told enough of the story for Henry to at least begin to understand.

She hoped.

Henry leaned back against his bed's headboard and said quietly, "None of that is in the book. My book of fairytales. It's all… it's not there. So the book is… it is lying."

He looked so hurt and so lost that Regina wanted to reach out and hug him, but although they were finally talking openly with each other again, she wasn't sure he would be ready for that.

Instead, she settled for saying, "It's not quite a lie. Everything the book actually says is true. But it is only a single book, Henry. There isn't enough space in it for every story of every person in my world."

"So… the book isn't lying, it's just… not telling the whole story? But… I don't understand. What was left out and why?"

Regina hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not she really wanted to go down this path. But Henry had asked the question, and she knew she had to give some sort of explanation if only to help him deal with the revelation that the book wasn't as perfect as he had believed.

Finally, she said, "The thing you have to realize, Henry, is that every author has an agenda. And most of the time, they want their point of view to be… obvious. They want the reader to agree with them, to see their heroes as heroes and their villains as villains."

"But that only makes sense if the author is writing fiction and can just make up the story," Henry argued. "These stories are _histories_. They're _true_." He stopped for a moment, a look of worry and then guilt flickering over his features as he added quietly, "And, I mean… you are… a… a…"

"Villain?" Regina offered when it became obvious that Henry didn't know how to finish that statement. He looked abashed and quickly averted his gaze, so she reached out and placed a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm not trying to justify everything I've done in the past. I know that _some_ of the choices I made were wrong."

Henry nodded.

"But Henry…" she waited until he was looking at her again, "a good historian might not lie, _per se_, but the stories they choose to include still show their agenda. Maybe it is a subconscious decision, maybe they don't even realize they are doing it. But they are still only going to record events that they deem important – and what they think is important is going to be a reflection of their own beliefs and prejudices."

"So whoever wrote this thought that Daniel wasn't important?" Henry asked. He furrowed his brow in growing bewilderment as he considered this possibility. "But… but he's the reason that you… that everything… how could he not be _important_?"

Regina shrugged. She didn't have an answer for that. In fact, although she had read the book cover to cover multiple times – except for those pages Henry had torn out a year ago – she had never once stopped to wonder why so much of her own history was left out of the book.

It was an interesting question – and one that suddenly felt incredibly essential.

"Whoever wrote this book thought that the reason you cast the curse didn't matter," Henry murmured, clearly speaking to himself even though he was addressing Regina. "And… they didn't want you to be sympathetic. They didn't want to show anything good about you." He looked up at his mother then. "Do you think they just forgot about it because they didn't think it was important, or do you think they did it on purpose?"

Regina didn't answer Henry's question. She didn't want to answer it because she sincerely doubted the omission was an oversight. Other villains – Rumpelstiltskin, King George, even the giants – were made to look at least slightly sympathetic, but she wasn't. Whoever had written this book had been trying to sell an idea – that she was evil.

But she couldn't tell Henry this. They had finally had a break through moment, and if she confided that she suspected the book had been written to portray her as pure evil, Henry would do one of two things. He would either assume that this was all some plot she had come up with to earn his trust and his sympathy, would accuse her of manipulating him, would pull away and take back the acceptance he had given just moments before, or…

Or he would see this as an unjust attack on her, insist on coming up with a plan to unmask whoever was behind it – complete with a ridiculous codename and everything – and rush headlong into his _operation_ without any regard for the danger it might put him in.

And maybe it didn't really matter. Maybe everything that had happened with Daniel and her mother and Rumpelstiltskin didn't make a difference. She had made her own choices, and the choices had led her to hurt people, to ruin them. She had allowed herself to be referred to as the Evil Queen – had even relished in the title.

Instead, she deliberately avoided answering the question by pointing out, "There is always another possibility."

"What?"

"Whoever wrote this book simply might not have known about my past."

Henry gave her a shrewd look. "Do you really believe that?" he asked.

She smiled and impulsively pressed a kiss into his hair, her heart soaring when he didn't pull away. "It doesn't matter," she said. "All of that is in the past, and… Daniel is gone. But I'm still here, and you are still here… and my mother is still here. I need to focus on that."

She rose to her feet and started to leave the room, but Henry called her back at the doorway.

"Mom?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"I… I just… well…" He struggled for a moment, unable to come up with the right words, then finally cleared his throat and said, "Thank you for taking me to the diner for lunch today."

It wasn't what he had meant to say, but it didn't matter, because Regina understood the sentiment beneath it anyway.

A smile lit up her face, and she answered, "You're very welcome."


	8. The Rightful Queen

A/N: I've created a back-story for Cora (and Hook and Peter Pan) that will no doubt become AU after the next couple episodes. But Cora's story is hinted at here, and will be explored later on.

* * *

Chapter Eight: The Rightful Queen

Town hall was busy.

Lights flooded through the windows and cascaded over the sidewalk surrounding the building. Leroy paused as he crossed the street on the way back to his brothers, his perpetual scowl deepening at the sight. The last time town hall had been used for any sort of organized meeting, Regina had stormed into the building in a flurry of anger and flames and stolen Henry from their midst.

So who was there, and why?

He hesitated, then doubled back towards the building. Suspicious of most non-dwarves by nature, he couldn't quite ignore the feeling that if this meeting was anything good, he would have heard about it. Ruby would have mentioned it, or Granny, or one of his brothers.

He pulled open the door and slipped into the building, unnoticed by the crowd that had gathered. There were at least thirty people in the room, probably more, and Leroy only recognized a few of them. It seemed to be one large argument, or possibly many smaller arguments, but Leroy couldn't make sense of any of it over the din of several raised voices.

There were no other dwarves present. No fairies. No sign of Ruby or Granny or Archie or even Whale.

Leroy's unease grew.

"Enough!" a woman said, her voice ringing with authority and she stepped into the center of the crowd. The other quieted almost immediately, and she continued, "These arguments will get us nowhere. The Evil Queen is powerful, and we must be united if we have any hope of defeating her and her allies."

"Why should we get involved?" a man in the crowd demanded, edging his way forward. "She's after Snow White. She doesn't have to be _our_ enemy."

"She cursed all of us," the woman replied calmly, her words ice and her gaze just as cold. "She tore us away from everything we loved."

"Yes, but her fight was _always_ with Snow White," the man protested. "I say we let the two of them try to kill each other and stay out of their way."

"In case you haven't noticed, Snow isn't here," the woman answered. "But Regina is, and she is _still_ destroying our happiness. It has been weeks since the curse broke and I have yet to find my daughter."

"Margaret…"

"Leah," the woman snapped, eyes flashing dangerously. "My name is Leah, _Queen_ Leah, _not_ Margaret." Her hands curled into fists at her side and she drew a slow breath, as though to calm her anger. In a more measured tone, she said, "I will not continue to use a name bestowed upon me by that witch. I am not the person she tried to turn me into, and I never will be."

"Your Majesty," yet another person from the crowd spoke up, "while we agree that Regina deserves to suffer for her crimes, I don't understand why we need to be the ones to fight her. Let someone else do it. Why should we get embroiled in a fight that was never ours to start with?"

"Are you afraid?" a man said, stepping up to take Leah's hand in his. "Too cowardly to fight the witch?"

"Of course not!"

"Stefan," Leah said, lifting their clasped hand to her lips and kissing his knuckles, "I know the people of this town, and they are brave. They want to protect what is theirs, to keep Regina from taking even more." Her eyes surveyed the crowd. "Don't you?"

A murmur of agreement ran through the room.

"No one in this room is a coward," another man agreed, stepping forward. "But no one here is a fool, either. And only a fool rushes into combat without first thinking through every possible plan."

Leah nodded slowly, acknowledging the speaker. "True, Charles," she said, a hint of deference in her voice. "So it seems to me that we need a plan."

"I agree," another voice called out. "We allowed Prince James to take the reigns of authority and what did he do? He forged an alliance with the very person who cursed us, became friendly with Rumpelstiltskin, and then put himself into an enchanted sleep. He was willing to risk the welfare of this town to get what _he_ wanted."

"Thank you, Midas," Charles said. He surveyed the people gathered for a long moment, letting the weight of Midas' words sink in, and then said, "We have no mayor, we have no sheriff. We have no one to lead us, and the man we put our trust in traded our safety for his own desires. It is time we corrected that."

Leroy glanced around the room once more, and saw Moe French standing on the outskirts of the group, watching the scene unfold with a smug smile.

* * *

"Regina! Open up, we need to talk!"

Regina frowned, pausing mid-step with a plate in her hand to glance over her shoulder at the door. Henry, who was in the process of helping her clear the table after dinner, stopped as well. To the one-time Queen, the interruption into what had been a rather pleasant meal was both jarring and unwelcome, but Henry clearly wasn't thinking along the same lines as Regina because he dropped his plate and cup onto the table and darted towards the door.

He yanked it open with a grin. "Hi, Ruby."

"Hi, Henry." The brunette werewolf stepped past him into the foyer, and caught Regina's annoyed gaze. "We have a problem," she said without preamble.

Regina's lips quirked into a mocking smile. "I know. I was the one actually conscious when that _problem_ came through the portal."

"Not her," Ruby replied, dismissing Cora with a wave of her hand. Regina barely refrained from rolling her eyes at that – _when_ would people stop treating her mother so carelessly? – and Ruby explained, "Moe French seems to have stirred up a crowd."

Regina lifted an eyebrow, a bit surprised. Moe French was the last person she would have believed has the backbone to cause any trouble, but he had already defied her expectations once by seeking out his daughter, so perhaps she had been wrong about him.

Of course, besides the detached curiosity she felt at his sudden courage, she was still apathetic to anything he did. "So?" she asked, crossing the room towards Ruby and closing the front door to keep out the night chill. "How is this crowd my problem?"

"Well," Ruby said dryly, responding automatically to Regina's indifferent drawl, "they are currently clamoring for your head on a platter."

Regina smirked. If Ruby thought _that_ was going to cause worry, she clearly underestimated just how much contempt Regina had for the people of this town.

"People are _always_ demanding my head, dear," she replied almost lazily. "If I had panicked every time some trumped-up noble came after me, I'd never have managed to get anything done."

"This is serious," Ruby said in exasperation. "King Charles is there, and so is King Midas, King Stefan and Queen Leah…"

"Charles is hardly someone to worry about, and I am confident we can take care of Midas," Regina said coolly. She hesitated, then admitted, "Leah might be a problem, particularly with Stefan egging her on. But I can handle her."

She kept her voice level and her worry firmly in check, not wanting Ruby to see how distressing this news actually was. Although she absolutely refused to cower in front of these fools, their timing could not have been more disastrous. Just as Ruby had rightly pointed out that Regina could not afford to fight her mother and the werewolf and dwarves, she also could not afford the distraction of these idiots and their grievances.

"They're gathering right now," Ruby pressed, a hint of fear in her voice. "They're actually calling it a war council. We have to _do_ something."

"Yes, dear. Because what would really calm them down is if the Evil Queen appeared and told them to play nice with each other," Regina replied sarcastically.

Ruby glowered at her.

She pursed her lips as she considered her options, then said, "I seem to recall that Mr. French had no love for you."

Ruby grimaced. "He doesn't," she replied bitterly. "Leroy went to this meeting, and he said that French… Maurice… whatever you want to call him… is trying to convince people not to listen to me. Or the dwarves, or Dr. Hopper. And the others are agreeing with him, claiming that I shouldn't have authority…"

Regina laughed and shook her head in amusement at the outrage in Ruby's voice. "You _shouldn't_, dear. You are a _waitress_, remember? You don't have the right to power here."

"And you do?" Ruby growled.

"I'm the Evil Queen, aren't I? Since when do I care about what I do or don't have a right to? I see something I want, and I simply take it."

"This is about more than just you!" Ruby snapped. "Don't you get it? With David in an enchanted sleep and Emma and Snow gone, there is no one left to stand up to them. They want this town, they want to rule. They're trying to take it away from Snow."

"This town never belonged to Snow," Regina shot back angrily. "This is _not_ her kingdom, Miss Lucas, and you would do well to remember that. Because I, for one, am not going to waste my time trying to help you retain whatever influence you misguidedly think you deserve."

"I thought we were working _together_," Ruby seethed.

"We are. On my _mother_. But I don't recall offering to protect your tenuous claim to power." She narrowed her eyes. "You'll have to worry about that on your own."

There was a momentary silence as Regina and Ruby glared at each other, but it was broken by an inquisitive question.

"Who are all those people?"

Both Regina and Ruby turned in surprise at the sound of Henry's voice, each having forgotten about him in their ensuing argument. Regina winced when she saw the mixture of worry and excitement on her son's face. She wasn't sure if the worry was for her safety, or for Ruby, but either way she did not like it. Combined with his reckless disregard for both his own wellbeing and the authority of adults, that worry would probably lead him to do something incredibly stupid.

"Henry, why don't you go to your room?" she suggested.

"But I want to know who those people are," Henry argued, his voice a mixture of determination and petulance. "I have a right to know, Mom. It affects me, too."

"No, it doesn't," Regina said with more censure than she had intended. Henry's expression hardened into one of defiance, and she sighed inwardly before adding, "This is an adult conversation, Henry."

"But Mom…" he started.

"Oh, just tell him, Regina," Ruby said irritably.

Regina slanted a glare at the werewolf. "Don't tell me how to interact with my son," she hissed. "You might think that you have the right to interfere in my family, but I assure you…"

"What I think," Ruby interrupted, "is that he is right; this does affect him. And not just because you might end up getting your head cut off."

Henry blanched at that, and Regina felt an absurd rush of gratitude that he cared enough to react strongly to the possibility of her death.

"Anyone who wants to get to you is going to know that you have someone you love," Ruby continued, her eyes darting between Regina and Henry.

Regina gritted her teeth, but couldn't argue with that logic. She had always been more than adept at dealing with the other kingdoms during her reign as the Evil Queen, but she had never had anything else that she cared about, anything that she needed to protect. The only thing that mattered to her then was her own power.

Things were different now.

She thought back to the day Henry had first delivered news of her mother's survival, the day she had gone to Gold for help and offered her own words of warning. And those words came rushing back to her now, reminding her that while they were meant to be a warning to him, they could just as easily apply to her.

Gold wasn't the only one with a weakness.

She made a decision. "Henry, please finish clearing the table. Miss Lucas, come into the kitchen. I want to know everything that was said at this… war council."

Henry, for once, didn't argue or complain or even sulk at being instructed to finish his chores, though Regina thought that probably had to do with the fact that cleaning up meant he would be in the kitchen while Ruby explained everything that had happened.

In the kitchen, Regina reached automatically for two glasses, and then stopped, reminding herself that this was not a social call. During her stint as mayor she had often offered cider to anyone in her house as a way of both throwing them off their game – courtesy of the high alcohol content – and amusing herself by watching others consume a drink based on the one fruit she was infamous for.

She turned away from the cupboard, pushing thoughts of apples from her mind. Ruby was leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest, watching Regina warily.

"So, dear… in between our meeting around lunch time and now the entire town has turned against you?" Regina glanced at the clock. "That is rather a lot to have happen in eight hours."

Ruby scowled. "I spoke to French shortly after you picked up Henry from the diner – maybe that was around two o'clock? We argued, and the next thing I know, he's gone and called a meeting of a lot of the old nobility. They're talking about how to run the town now that there is no mayor and no sheriff."

"Hm… I wonder who gave him that idea," Regina said.

"You don't think he came up with it on his own?" Ruby asked, but it wasn't a question. There was something about the tone of her voice that suggested she already believed someone else was manipulating Mr. French, and just wanted confirmation of her suspicions.

Regina didn't answer the question – it didn't need one. Instead, she asked, "Who came? Besides the people you mentioned."

"Um… not sure." Ruby chewed her lip. "I didn't go, just Leroy. He said there were a lot of people there. Midas and Leah seemed to be in charge, though. And Leah was… angry. Her daughter is still missing."

Regina glanced at Henry. "Aurora isn't missing," she said pointedly. "She's back in our land. And before you ask," she raised a hand to forestall Ruby's obvious question, "no, I have no idea why the curse didn't bring Aurora here. Something must have interfered with it."

"Or someone," Ruby suggested.

"Yes," Regina agreed, but refused to follow that train of thought any further, knowing that it wouldn't lead anywhere productive. Her mother was the most likely culprit, but Regina was at a loss for how or why Cora would have protected Aurora from the curse.

Or had that merely been a side effect of something else?

"So Queen Leah is Aurora's mother?" Henry asked.

Regina nodded absently. "Queen Leah and King Stefan ruled a neighboring kingdom. We were feuding for a while, but once I _renounced_ my friendship with Maleficent we were able to strike a tentative truce." She gave Ruby a wry look and said, "I imagine cursing them all constitutes breaking that truce."

"And the others Ruby mentioned?" Henry pressed on before Ruby could reply.

"King Midas is Abigail's – Katherine Nolan's – father. I met him once or twice during Leopold's reign, but I don't know him well." Regina's words took on a tone of utmost disdain as she added, "Leopold did not think highly of his intelligence, and that is saying something given how much of an idiot my dear husband was."

"Regina!" Ruby hissed in censure, but Regina ignored her.

"King Charles goes my Patrick Herman now. He and I do _not_ get along… but his anger was always more towards Rumpelstiltskin given what the imp did to Prince Thomas and Princess Ella's happy ending."

"How many kingdoms are there in your world?" Henry asked eagerly.

"A lot," Ruby muttered.

"The number was always changing as kingdoms absorbed each other or split into two," Regina replied carelessly. The subject might have interested her son, but having lived through the boredom of diplomacy and the inevitable futility of war, she found it all rather dull. Neither method had been particularly useful for her – she had learned a long time ago that the best way to take and keep power was through subterfuge.

After all, she had won the throne by manipulating another to kill the man standing in her way, and had lost the throne when forced to fight in an open war.

"There was always a war being fought somewhere. The only time the kingdoms stopped fighting each other was when they had a common enemy – the ogres. And even then… even then the kings and queens kept trying to get an advantage over each other," Ruby added, turning to face Henry fully. "And then, of course, there were the lesser nobles. Dukes, earls, lords and barons. They all fought quite a bit, too." She paused, then added, "And the clans who had their own order. Like the fairies and the dwarves. But they generally stayed out of the conflicts."

"They were _supposed_ to stay out of the conflicts," Regina corrected. "Blue never really understood that, though, did she?" Under her breath, she muttered, "Interfering, meddlesome, insufferable…"

"That sounds very… messy," Henry interrupted.

"It was," Ruby agreed. "And it will be again if this war council is anything to go by. Everyone is grabbing for power now. They'll take whatever they can get their hands on. It's going to lead to chaos… backstabbing, infighting. The town will fall apart without anyone to hold it together, and when Snow and Emma return, there might not be anything left."

"It still seems odd for _Moe French_ to be behind this," Regina mused. "The man might not be particularly bright, be he must know that he does not have either the strength or the support to win power. The others will crush him without hesitation."

It was like trying to align puzzle pieces when one was missing. She knew that all this information could paint a very revealing picture if only she could see how everything fit together. But something was missing, something obvious, and no picture was emerging.

"Someone is pulling his strings," Ruby said. "The question is why."

"To cause havoc?" Regina suggested with a dark chuckle. "If the point is to destroy the town, this is a brilliant plan. Why bother doing any actual fighting when you can set everything up so that your enemies destroy themselves?" Then she sobered abruptly and said grimly, "Actually, it sounds quite a bit like something I would do."

"But you didn't… right?" Henry asked tentatively.

Regina gave him a forced smile and shook her head. "No, Henry, I didn't. But I learned almost everything I know about manipulation from two people, and I doubt Gold is behind this."

"Your mother?"

Regina nodded at Ruby. "Yes. It reeks of her design."

It had been her first suspicion from the moment Ruby had mentioned all this, and not just because Regina was of the opinion that everything bad that happened now could probably somehow be traced back to her mother. The manipulation – using people to hurt themselves while hiding in the background, unseen and undiscovered – was so very like Cora.

And yet…

There was one major flaw in the assumption that Cora was behind this, and that was the involvement of Moe French. How would Cora have known to go to him? He was a lesser noble, disregarded and overlooked. He had little influence back in his own land, and even less here in Storybrooke. He lacked courage or strength, and hardly ever went against those with more authority than himself. He would not be the obvious choice…

Unless his strained relationship with his daughter and his hatred for Rumplestilskin, Ruby, and David were all known.

And Cora knew nothing of any of that– though it _was_ entirely possible that she had learned of Belle by now.

But even if that was the case, whoever had done this knew Mr. French – or, rather, Sir Maurice – well enough to know which buttons to push, and Cora couldn't possibly know _that_.

So.

Who else was behind this?

"Did you bring everyone from every kingdom?" Henry asked, interrupting Regina's thoughts.

"No," Regina answered simply, and didn't elaborate. She'd only brought the kingdoms ruled by those whom she had wanted to curse – either because they were allied with Snow White or because they had failed Regina at some point in the past. She'd brought individual people from other worlds for the same reasons.

Of course, it wasn't as though everyone she'd cursed had been guilty of something. There were plenty of innocents here, too – cursing entire kingdoms meant that she'd cursed commoners she'd never met.

But she hadn't cared about them, and she couldn't quite bring herself to care about them now. Not with her mother here, not with Henry's life on the line.

"Assuming your mother has something to do with this, what does she gain by it?" Ruby questioned. "Why does she want the town destroyed?"

Regina's lips curled into a thin smile. "Not the town. Just the kings and queens. My mother does not like royalty," she said, her words twisting with bitter irony. "For all the effort she put into making me a Queen, she still hates anyone with that title. Anyone besides her."

"Even you?" Ruby asked curiously.

_Me most of all_, Regina thought, but she did not say the words aloud. It was far too complicated to delve into her mother's history, and Regina did not know enough about it to adequately explain all the details. But she knew that her mother resented her, and she knew bits and pieces of the reason why.

And she had no intention of sharing that with Ruby.

Or Henry.

Instead, she said, "She'll take quite a bit of pleasure in destroying them, but I'm sure she has specific targets as well." She inclined her head towards Ruby, "The fact that Miss Blanchard will return to a destroyed town will please her. My mother could never stand _that_ lineage any more than she could stand my father's."

"Your mother hated Snow White, too?" Henry asked eagerly. "Why?"

Another question Regina was not going to answer. She deflected easily, "And stirring up the town means that I not only have no one who could possibly be considered an ally, it also means I need to waste time worrying about those fools instead of focusing on Cora."

"You have Ruby as an ally," Henry pointed out. "And the dwarves."

"Yes," Regina said dryly. Somehow, the fact that she had an emotionally-complicated werewolf and a handful of miners to help her fight one of the most powerful, manipulative, and conniving people she'd ever met was _not_ a comfort.

She sighed.

"Hey, Henry," Ruby said suddenly, giving Regina a shrewd look before turning towards the boy, "have you checked on David this evening?"

"Not since before dinner," Henry said with a slight frown, "but, I mean… he's not going to _change_."

"I know, but I bet he likes hearing your voice. Even if he can't really hear you because he's in an enchanted sleep, I think he _knows_ that you're there. Somehow."

Henry considered this for a moment, then shrugged and left the kitchen. Regina watched him go, and felt a fleeting annoyance. He doubted everything she said, constantly looking for lies and tricks in her words, and yet he accepted Ruby's words at face value? Couldn't he tell that it was nothing more than an excuse to get him out of the room?

She pushed the annoyance aside. Most of this was her fault, after all – she had lied to him. Repeatedly. He had little reason to trust her, and she knew that, but it was still so damn _hard _to watch him give his trust so easily to someone else.

And they had made progress today. She had to remember that, had to remember that things were slowly getting better between them. She would not do anything to jeopardize that.

She turned to Ruby.

"What do you want, Miss Lucas?" she asked warily.

"Can you do this?" Ruby asked flatly.

"Do what?" Regina asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fight Cora. Can you do this, can you fight her? Can you stop her?" Ruby pressed, taking a step forward. Her eyes bored into Regina, demanding answers. There was suspicion and mistrust and…

Something else.

"Are you questioning my magic?" Regina snapped back.

"No," Ruby answered simply. "I'm questioning your willingness to attack Cora."

"My willingness…?" Regina practically snarled, incredulity and anger warring for control of her emotions. Ruby had given her allegiance reluctantly, and had attached far too many strings to it for Regina's liking, but she had thought that the werewolf was on her side.

She shook her head. Ruby was Mary Margaret's friend – Snow's friend. She should have known that the werewolf would never trust her.

But she hadn't expected such a blatant accusation.

"I think I've more than proven that I am willing to fight her," Regina said angrily, and turned away, moving towards the sink.

"You've proven that you are willing to _protect_ yourself and Henry from her," Ruby countered, speaking from behind her. "But if we're going to defeat Cora, you're going to have to actually _attack_ her. I want to know if you're able to do that."

Regina whirled around. "What makes you think I wouldn't be able to?" she nearly growled.

Ruby blinked, then said softly, "She's your _mother_."

Regina stilled. There were so many reasons that she felt paralyzed in the face of her mother's presence, but underneath everything – underneath her fear for Henry, her fury at the way her mother was _still_ trying to control her life, her desperate need for power, her insecurity over the best plan going forward – was the one simple trust she couldn't get around.

This was her _mother_.

Cora always said that love was a weakness.

* * *

The mirror rippled, like rings spreading out on a pond. The reflective surface shimmered, and an image appeared, distorted and vague. A hand waved over the mirror, fingertips just barely trailing along the glass, and the image came together. Lines sharpened, colors intensified, and the picture formed.

_There were three of them – two women and a man. They were walking through a forest, their footsteps quick and determined. The man led the way, and his gaze roamed over everything, as though he was expecting an attack. The two women trailed behind, walking side-by-side. The brunette kept glancing around as well, a look of sorrow – of longing for something long gone – reflected in her eyes._

_But the blonde stared only at the man, and there was suspicion in every line of her face._

Cora shook her head. "Bringing them to Storybrooke, are you? No," she murmured to herself, "no, my dear Captain Hook, this will not do at all."


	9. Murder Most Foul

Chapter Nine: Murder Most Foul

They found his body sprawled on the floor of his flower shop. He was on his back, one arm over his chest, the other flung to his side. There was blood on his shirt and bruises peaked out above his collar. His eyes stared at the ceiling, wide and unseeing, filled with fear.

Queen Leah glanced around the shop. "Don't touch anything," she ordered tersely to the three men with her as she edged into the room.

"Should we call someone? A police officer, maybe?"

Leah gave the man who had spoken a withering look. "A police officer, Edward? And who would that be? Our Sheriff is currently elsewhere." She ran a hand through her unruly red curls and frowned at the body before looking at another of the men. "Peter, call my husband. Tell him…" She hesitated. What could she tell him? She had no answers, and even worse, she had no idea how to go about investigating the murder.

She turned away from the body. It was true that they had no sheriff in this town, but she'd had the equivalent of detectives in her kingdom, and they would suffice.

The queen glanced at Peter again. "Tell King Stefan that Maurice has been murdered and I've called the Blue Guard." She pursed her lips together. "Alert the rest of the town to this… development. And make sure that it is known that I am investigating." Her expression hardened. "Make no mistake, we _will_ find and punish the person responsible."

"As you wish," Peter said, inclining his head and slipping unobtrusively from her presence.

"Edward," Leah said, "assemble the Blue Guard at town hall. All of them. It is time we restore some order to this town."

"Yes, your Majesty," Edward said, and he, too, left the shop.

That left Leah alone with only one of her guards. She rather thought three guards following her constantly was overkill, but Stefan had insisted, claiming that with Regina and Rumplestilskin on the loose, it would not hurt to have a tail everywhere she went. She'd agreed reluctantly, unable to find fault in his logic – and she found his concern endearing.

She slanted a quick look at the third guard. His name was Philip, a name he shared with her presumed son-in-law – assuming, of course, that _Prince_ Philip was not dead. And if he was dead, was there any way to save her daughter…?

Assuming they ever managed to find Aurora.

"Your Majesty?" Philip said. "If we are going to make it public knowledge that Sir Maurice is dead, should we first notify his daughter?"

"Yes, yes," Leah said. "You are right, of course."

She knew little about Belle, but Maurice had mentioned that he and his daughter were estranged. He seemed to think it was the fault of that monster who worked at the diner; or perhaps the devious imp had something to do with it. Leah, who had disliked Maurice from the moment they'd met yesterday, thought it was far more likely that the fool had pushed his daughter away himself.

But she'd smiled and accepted his words without argument. He'd been useful to her, helping her gather together those who opposed the ridiculous notion that Snow and James were somehow the rightful rulers of this town. She'd taken advantage of that, and now that she stared at his dead body, she couldn't help but wonder if it was what had gotten him killed.

She squared her shoulders. If she was in any way responsible for putting the poor man in danger, she would bear the responsibility for seeking justice.

She stepped past Philip and out of the shop. The early morning air was bitterly cold, but the sun was out, and she had to shade her eyes from its glare. She glanced back and forth, turning her head to see if she could spot anything out of the ordinary. But the street was calm, even quiet.

She sighed, and watched the white wisps of her breath hover in the air.

Philip trailed behind her.

"I don't know anything about him," Leah admitted softly.

"Your Majesty?" Philip asked.

"Maurice. I don't know anything about him. I don't know who would want him dead."

She licked her chapped lips and lapsed into silent thought. Maurice had not been a part of her kingdom, and so whatever enemies he'd made in the past would not be known to her. And she had never paid enough attention to Moe French to have any idea of the people who hated him during their cursed years.

There were the obvious suspects, of course. Rumpelstiltskin had made his jealous love for Belle brilliantly clear to the entire town, and Leah doubted he would refrain from killing Maurice if he thought it was necessary to do so to keep Belle to himself. The Evil Queen was a viable suspect as well – though her motivations were less clear.

But who else?

"The Blue Guard will find answers," Philip said, "and perhaps his daughter will have some idea."

Leah nodded, but that did little to ease her worry.

It wasn't just that she knew so very little about Maurice. It was that she knew little about the entire town. If the rumors were true, then there were people here from kingdoms she had never visited, from lands that she had never even heard of. How could she possibly hope to rule a town when she knew next to nothing about the people in it?

And how could she even go about learning the relevant information? The only person who knew those details was the Evil Queen, and Leah was not about to ask Regina for help.

She glanced behind her at the flower shop.

When Maurice had come to her with his whispered words and accusations, when he had reminded her that she was still a Queen and it was time she took back the power that was rightfully hers, he had spoken bitterly of Snow and James. He had no love for the two of them, or for James' obvious attempt to seize control of the town. Maurice had claimed to have spoken against them only to have them ignore his requests and trample over his justified concerns.

So Snow and James would have been suspects… except that Snow was currently trapped in some other world and James had put himself into an enchanted sleep.

But Snow and James had followers who were no doubt desperate to protect the _perfect_ couple's influence. Could one of them be behind this murder?

* * *

In Leah and Stefan's realm, the Blue Guard had been a subset of the royal guard tasked with investigating crimes against the royal family. While the lesser nobles and village leaders were allowed their own sheriffs, their own jails, and their own executioners, anyone who committed a crime in the royal city, violated a royal decree, or harmed a royal person was subject to the whims of the king and queen.

In Storybrooke, the Blue Guard was an odd assortment. Traditionally there were seven, but now there were only five – two had been killed during the battle with Maleficent after Aurora had been cursed, and Stefan had not replaced them before Regina had cast her own curse. Of the remaining five, there was a baker, a construction worker, a grocer, a secretary, and a town hall bureaucrat.

They did not look particularly fearsome, but despite the last twenty-eight years of the curse, they still remembered how to be the Blue Guard. They still remembered their duty. And Moe French's death might not have been a crime against the royal family, per se, but Queen Leah had given them and order, and they were honor-bound to follow it.

* * *

"Oh… _God_…"

The knight of the Blue Guard watched impassively as Belle stumbled back, away from her father's body. She was shaking, tears pooling in her eyes, and she vehemently shook her head, as though her denial could change what had happened.

"No, no…" Belle whispered. "No, this can't… no…"

She turned, twisting away from the sight, and buried her face in Mr. Gold's chest. The imp wrapped his arms around her immediately, holding tightly as she continued to cry.

The knight grimaced at this, but said nothing. It was not his place to question Belle's horrible taste in men. If she wanted to put her trust and her love in a monster who ruined the lives of everyone around him, then that was her choice.

He just hoped she knew what she was doing.

He reached over and covered the body with the white sheet, blocking it from view.

Belle had insisted on seeing the body even though Mr. Gold had tried to dissuade her from it. He had argued that she didn't need to subject herself to that, but she had responded that she wouldn't believe that he was dead until she saw it with her own eyes. And so they were here, and Belle was sobbing.

The knight cleared his throat. "Let's move to a more comfortable room so that we can talk," he said, ushering Belle and Mr. Gold out of the hospital's morgue.

"I don't understand," Belle whispered. "I saw him _yesterday_."

The knight opened the door to a small hospital conference room and gestured for Belle to take a seat at the table. She complied, looking small and frail, and wiped a hand over her eyes to brush away the tears.

"First," the knight said as he took the seat opposite her, "allow me to express my heartfelt sympathies at your loss."

Belle just stared at him.

"I know how difficult this must be for you, but I need to ask you a few questions."

"Why you?" Mr. Gold interrupted as he limped forward to stand behind Belle, one hand on his cane while the other came to rest on her shoulder.

The knight frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why are _you_ investigating this? Why does it matter to you?"

The knight blinked. "It is a _murder_," he said, a hint of derision in his tone. "Why wouldn't we investigate?"

"You aren't the sheriff," Mr. Gold pointed out logically.

The knight raised an eyebrow. "And where is the sheriff?" he retorted. "Beyond our reach. If we wait for Sheriff Swan to return, the trail will probably have gone cold." He looked at Belle. "You do want your father's killer brought to justice, don't you?"

"_Yes_," Belle answered emphatically.

Mr. Gold said nothing, but he narrowed his eyes dangerously and the knight swallowed, remembering abruptly that he was not just talking to Mr. Gold – he was talking to Rumpelstiltskin. However intimidating the pawnbroker had been, the Dark One was much, much worse.

He looked away, and though he did not see it, he could perfectly imagine that Mr. Gold was smirking.

"What questions?" Belle asked, breaking the tense silence.

The knight snapped his gaze back to her. "Perhaps it would be best if we spoke in private," he suggested.

"No, I… I need… moral support," Belle said softly.

The knight pursed his lips, but nodded. "Very well. You said you saw your father yesterday. Can you tell me about that visit?"

Belle reached up to wipe away more tears. "We argued," she whispered, horror seeping into her voice. "He wanted to… he said he missed me, but we argued and I didn't forgive him and…" Her words choked off abruptly, a sob escaping her lips. "If I'd known…"

The knight said nothing, simply waited. In his experience, people always had regrets after someone had died – regrets for things not said, for help not given, for a life not saved. There was much he could say about the futility of such regrets, but it was better to simply wait and listen.

After a moment, Belle composed herself. "It was a short conversation," she said. "I was at Granny's diner and he came in. I hadn't seen him since he tried to send me over the town line…"

"He did what?" the knight interrupted.

Belle wrapped her arms around herself. "When I refused to leave Rumple, he tried to erase my memories of before the curse by sending me over the town line. He said he was trying to protect me. I was so angry… I told him to stay away from me. And he did. I didn't see him at all until yesterday."

The knight considered this, then asked, "And yesterday, the two of you argued?"

"Yes," Belle murmured.

"Did your father have any enemies?"

"The ogres?" Belle offered. "Other than that… he didn't really attract people's attention. I know that he got into arguments with other noble families every now and then, but it wasn't… it was never anything serious. He could never stand fighting, even if it was for a good cause. He often just conceded. My father was…"

She didn't finish the sentence, and the guard wondered what she had meant to say. He had investigated enough crimes to tell when someone was trying desperately not to speak ill of the dead, and he had a suspicion that Belle had been about to refer to her father as weak.

It would certainly match with Queen Leah's impression of Moe French.

"Did Moe French have any enemies?" the knight asked.

Belle shrugged. "I don't know," she said, bitterness twisting her tone. "I spent all the years of the curse locked up in the hospital."

Behind her, Mr. Gold stiffened and his expression darkened.

The knight made a mental note of that, in case it became relevant later.

Aloud, he said, "And you can think of no one who would want your father dead?"

Belle shook her head mutely.

The knight held her gaze for a long moment, then let his own eyes flick up to Mr. Gold's face. Belle caught the questioning glance, and surged to her feet.

"No," she said firmly. "No, he _wouldn't_… You can't just assume that everything bad that happens in this town is _his_ fault. Have you _forgotten_ Regina? You know, the woman who _cursed_ us."

"Mr. Gold nearly beat your father into a coma while you were locked up in the hospital," the knight said simply.

Belle froze. She clearly had not known _that_, or at least had not given it much thought.

"So I ask you again, are you sure that your father has no enemies here?"

The knight watched in interest as indecision and pain flickered over her features, and then Belle turned to Mr. Gold.

"Belle…"

"Tell me you didn't kill him," Belle said, her words somehow both a plea and a demand. "Tell me that you had nothing to do with this. Look me in the eyes and swear to me that you did not kill my father."

Mr. Gold reached out and touched her chin lightly with his fingertips. Staring directly into her eyes, he said, "Belle, I swear to you, on everything I hold dear, that I did not kill your father." He paused, and when Belle said nothing, he asked, "_Please_, Belle… believe me. I didn't do this."

Slowly, Belle nodded. "I believe you," she whispered, and once again burst into tears.

Mr. Gold held her close and did not let go.

* * *

While the knight of the Blue Guard questioned Belle, two of his companions carefully and methodically searched the area around the flower shop for any sign of the murder weapon. It was slow going, but the Blue Guard was nothing if not resolute in their dedication to their task.

However, as news of Mr. French's death spread, a crowd gathered outside the shop, and without yellow police tape to mark off the shop as a crime scene, one of the knights eventually had to abandon the search and post himself outside the door to prevent anyone from contaminating the scene.

"Is it really murder?" a young boy asked, pushing forward to peer into the window of the shop.

The knight frowned at the question, and at the excitement in the boy's tone. It seemed that in any world, young children did not quite grasp the severity of brutal death.

"Yes," he said in a clipped tone. "Now step away from the window."

The boy's mother dragged him back with admonishments for her son and apologies for the knight. He waved away her concern and looked back at the crowd. As long as he was stuck here babysitting a group of adults who were, for the most part, acting like overeager children, he figured he might as well make use of it.

"Do any of you work in the establishments on this street?" he asked.

A few nodded in reply.

"Did you notice Mr. French acting strangely in the past couple days?" the knight continued. "Did he do anything out of character?"

"No. He mostly kept to himself since the curse broke. He was quiet. Didn't really engage with people. Except… there was that one man who hung out around the shop a while back. What was his name?"

"Smith? No… Smog? Um…"

"Smee, I think it was."

"Any idea where I can find this Smee?" the knight asked.

All he received in reply were several shaking heads.

"And did Mr. French have any friends besides this… Smee?" the knight pressed.

This time the shaking heads were interspersed with shrugged shoulders.

The knight sighed.

"What about enemies?" he asked.

There was silence for a moment as the crowd pondered this question, then a young woman spoke up.

"I heard he argued with Ruby Lucas yesterday."

"Ruby Lucas?" the knight asked, turning his attention to the woman.

"Yes. She's the waitress at Granny's diner. She's friends with Mr. French's daughter." The woman shrugged and added, "I didn't actually witness the argument, but one of my friends did, and she said that Ruby and Mr. French were really yelling at each other."

The knight was about to ask for his friend's name when there was a shout from a nearby alleyway and the second knight of the Blue Guard appeared, holding a knife in her gloved hand.

"It's got blood on it," she said as she walked towards the crowd. "Just a little bit, near the handle. The rest of the blade has been wiped clean, but it looks like it could be a match for the murder weapon."

She held the knife out to her companion and he took it, scrutinizing it carefully. It was a kitchen knife, with a thin stainless steel blade and a black handle. A crescent moon was etched into the base.

* * *

The knife could have been sent for a full DNA and fingerprint analysis, but that would have required allowing it to leave Storybrooke, and King Stefan refused to allow the potential murder weapon to go somewhere that they couldn't follow. So it was sent to the hospital instead in the hopes that Dr. Whale would have the right technology for the necessary forensics.

A cheap fingerprint analysis kit was found at the Sheriff's station, but no one in the town had their own fingerprints on record, so even if they did get prints from the handle of the knife, there would be no comparisons to make until they had a viable suspect.

There was Mr. Gold – though it seemed unlikely he would willingly allow himself to be fingerprinted. There was this mysterious Mr. Smee who could not be fingerprinted until he was found.

And then there was Ruby Lucas.

* * *

"Ruby isn't here," Granny said, glaring at the knight before her. "And I'm busy."

"A man is dead, ma'am," the knight replied smoothly. "I am sure your customers will understand if you have to inconvenience them for a few minutes. The man deserves justice."

Granny rolled her eyes and huffed, as though she thought quite differently about the matter, but she nodded all the same. "Very well," she said with ill-disguised irritation. "What do you want to know about?"

"Moe French came to your diner yesterday," the knight said.

"Yes. To talk to his daughter." Granny wiped her hands on her apron and stepped behind the counter to continue with her work while they talked.

"Did you hear the conversation?" the knight asked.

"No," Granny said in a clipped tone. "I was working. And I don't eavesdrop on private conversations."

"I was given to understand that the conversation became quite heated," the knight said. "Are you sure you did not hear any of it?"

Granny blinked. "They argued," she admitted. "I heard that they had raised their voices, but I wasn't truly listening, so I don't know what they said."

"I see." The knight was quiet, studying Granny carefully, before he said, "And did your granddaughter get involved?"

"Ruby? I…"

He could tell by the unease flickering through her expression that the woman was trying to figure out how to answer that question without saying anything that could be construed as evidence against her granddaughter. The protective instinct was strong in parents and grandparents, and King George's framing of Ruby for murder was common enough knowledge that the knight knew Granny had good reason to be wary on her granddaughter's behalf.

But the knight was interested in justice, and only the full truth would suffice.

"There were other people in your diner," he said. "I could ask one of them for their version of events." And, as if to prove his point, he gestured to the several patrons who were currently listening to their conversation.

Granny gave him a hard look, then said, "Follow me."

And she turned on her heel and marched into the relative privacy of the diner's kitchen.

The knight followed.

"Here's what happened," Granny said bluntly as she turned around to face him, "Mr. French was upsetting Belle. Ruby went over to make sure everything was alright – she's friends with Belle, and given what French tried to do to his own daughter, Ruby was right to be worried."

"I see," the knight said noncommittally. In truth, he agreed with Granny's assessment of the situation – if Moe French had really tried to force Belle over the town line, then he had been a threat to his daughter.

But he did not tell Granny that. He did not tell her anything, but simply allowed her to talk, wondering where her story would lead.

"Anyway, Belle asked her father to leave, and in response, he lashed out at Ruby. He called her a freak and accused her of lying to Belle, trying to turn Belle against him. Belle became upset and rushed out of the diner, and eventually her father followed her."

"And that was the last your granddaughter saw of Mr. French?"

"I… no," Granny admitted. "She told me that she saw him later yesterday afternoon, near his shop. They argued again. She told him to stay away from Belle, and he accused her of working with Regina." She hesitated, then said, "Look, I know how this whole thing looks, but… my Ruby was just trying to look out for her friend. She's got a big heart… she just doesn't always think things through. She was reckless and angry, but she's not a killer."

The knight studied her expression carefully. It was clear that Granny believed every word she was saying. But was that because Ruby was innocent, or was it because she just didn't know her granddaughter as well as she believed?

An argument was not enough to prove motive.

But it was definitely a start.

And yet…

There was something strange about this, about the two passionate arguments so many people had witnessed.

Every single person who had known Moe French had described him as quiet, as someone who kept to himself. His own daughter had done practically everything short of calling him a weak coward. He avoided confrontation at all costs.

So what had happened to change his behavior yesterday?

Queen Leah and King Stefan wanted this solved quickly. And now that they had the likely murder weapon, it was entirely possible that they could figure out who was behind this without too much more trouble. But even if they did…

Something about the whole situation just felt _wrong_.

"Do you have any other questions, or can I get back to work?" Granny asked pointedly.

"That is all for now," the knight said. "Thank you for your time."

He turned away, and as he did so, his gaze fell upon the knives in the knife block at the end of the counter.

He paused.

"Are these the knives you use for cooking in your diner?" he asked, gesturing towards them.

Granny nodded. "Yes," she replied impatiently. "They're a matching set."

The knives were slender, with stainless steel blades, black handles, and crescent moons etched into each base.

One was missing.


	10. Up In Flames

A/N: This is the last chapter that takes place completely in Storybrooke before we jump back to Emma and Mary Margaret again.

Chapter Ten: Up In Flames

The ink was colder than she had expected.

It was old, and it clumped together instead of running evenly from the bottle. It was tacky, and stuck to her skin even after she had pressed each finger to the white parchment, leaving behind faded prints.

Ruby observed all of this in a detached manner, vaguely aware that she should be paying more attention to what was happening around her instead of staring blankly at the ink. But she was numb, and sluggish, and none of this made any sense.

Someone moved in front of her, pulling the card with her fingerprints away. A bottle of rubbing alcohol and a bag of cotton balls were set on the desk in front of her, and she stared at them without comprehension.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes, an exasperated voice said, "To clean your hands."

She blinked, and reached slowly for the bottle.

As she wiped the ink from her fingers, only barely aware of what she was doing, she allowed herself to glance around the room. They had brought her to the sheriff's station for this interrogation, but had asked no questions. Maybe they thought there was nothing to ask. Maybe they believed they already had enough evidence. Maybe…

The ink stained the cotton ball a dusky gray. As she cleaned her fingers, she felt the warmth slowly spread through her body, chasing away the numbness and clearing the fog of confusion from her mind. She had been so stunned when they had arrested her that she had not even though to fight back, but now that she understood just what was happening, she forced herself to focus.

She turned towards the man who appeared to be in charge. "Where's my lawyer?"

The man gazed at her coolly. "You don't have lawyer, wolf," he answered.

She raised an eyebrow. If his threatening tone and insulting epithet was meant to make her cower, he would be sorely disappointed; it had exactly the opposite effect.

"I have a right to one," she shot back, lips curled into a snarl.

The man actually laughed. "Do you? And who told you _that_?"

Ruby blinked again, then reached back into her memory and pulled forth the words, "The defendant is not only allowed legal representation, but is guaranteed it." Regina's curse had dumped seventh grade United States history into her head, and while she hadn't had much of a use for it before, she was thankful for it now.

"In the United States, perhaps," a new voice said as another man entered the room, "but Storybrooke isn't _quite_ part of that country."

Ruby swiveled in her chair. "King Stefan," she said softly, venom creeping into her tone as she eyed the man. She didn't know him well, but she doubted his presence meant anything good for her. Particularly if he was the one intent on keeping her from a fair trial. "So you have no intention of upholding the law?"

The king smiled easily, apparently not in the least disturbed by her anger or her accusation. "It is not _our_ law," he replied, stepping around the table so that he was standing directly in front of her. He leaned forward, pressing his hands onto the table and towering over her, "This is not _our_ land, regardless of what the Evil Queen's curse did."

"But we aren't in _your_ kingdom, either," Ruby countered. "And I am not one of _your_ subjects."

"Well…" Stefan studied her for a long moment, as though contemplating her point, and then said, "I suppose that is true. If your king and queen disagree with my methods, they are more than welcome to bring their complaints to me themselves. As you are their subject, I would of course respect their request to be involved in your trial."

Ruby narrowed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists beneath the table. "That's not fair," she protested angrily. "Snow is in a different realm and David has been cursed. They can't…"

"It wasn't fair to Sir Maurice when you stabbed him in the chest, either," Stefan interrupted. "He deserves justice, and I refuse to deny him that."

"All I am asking is that you wait until Snow and David are back with us," Ruby argued heatedly.

"And if they never come back?" Stefan asked softly. "Would you have us wait indefinitely? Delay justice so that we can await the whims of rulers who may never return?" He straightened. "I think not, Miss Lucas." He glanced over at one of the guards. "Lock her in the cell."

And she was hauled roughly from the interrogation room.

* * *

Stefan watched as Leah paced back and forth in agitation. Waiting had never been one of his wife's strong points, and with a man dead she was even less able to manage her frustration.

He glanced at the watch strapped around his wrist. He was anxious as well, but it would do no good to rush the Blue Guard. They needed evidence quickly, of course, but they also needed the evidence to be accurate. The techniques of this world – fingerprinting, blood typing – were new to the Blue Guard, and though the knights of the Guard were certainly flexible enough to adapt to the new situation, they needed a bit more time to understand these results.

In the last twenty-nine years, none of them had been detectives, police officers, or forensic scientists. No doubt the Evil Queen had not wanted to bestow such knowledge upon them, knowing how effective it would make them if the curse ever broke.

So the technicians at the hospital were doing the blood typing and the fingerprint analyst employed by the sheriff's station was comparing prints, and the medical examiner in the hospital's morgue was performing the autopsy, and the Blue Guard was merely standing watch until the results were ready.

"It would be better if we could do a DNA analysis," Leah said abruptly.

Stefan nodded. "It would, but that would require sending the knife over the town line and you know why we can't do that."

Leah nodded. "A pity they can't do it at the hospital."

"Yes, but Dr. Whale was clear that they didn't have the capabilities to do that. All we can do is the blood typing…"

"Which will tell us what?" Leah snapped. "That the blood on the knife is A or B or O? _A lot_ of people have those blood types."

Stefan glanced down at the paperwork he had received early in the afternoon. "Actually, Maurice had blood type AB," he said, "so that is what we should find on the knife. It's rare."

"There will be other people in the town who have it," Leah pointed out reasonably. "No matter how rare it is… this may be a small town, but it isn't _that_ small."

"Yes, but the medical examiner should be able to match the knife to the wound, and when the technicians confirm that the blood is type AB, that will be enough to declare it the murder weapon."

Leah stopped her pacing and sighed. "I know," she agreed. "I just… wish we had more."

"We will," Stefan promised. "The Blue Guard will find more. They will find everything they need to obtain justice for Maurice. They've already found the murder weapon, located where the murder weapon came from, and ascertained a very likely motive for the suspect. All in less than a day. They are good at this, my love. That is why we gave them these responsibilities back in our land."

"And everything is set?"

"Yes," Stefan answered. "The cell has been repaired, the magic has been put in place. We are ready for whatever happens."

Leah nodded reluctantly. "Fine," she said. "But we don't have much time."

Stefan inclined his head in agreement.

There was no doubt in his mind that Red was responsible for Maurice's death. And that worried him.

Should Snow and James return, they would have a legitimate claim to overseeing the trial. The wolf was one of theirs, after all.

Red had killed people in the past – always by accident, never her fault, Snow had insisted – and yet while she had been given a place of influence on the royal council, the dead had been forgotten. They had never been given justice, the families had never been given closure. Lives had been ripped apart, both literally and figuratively, and yet Snow wouldn't even consider the option of locking up her wolf during the full moon. Red's freedom had been worth more to Snow than other people's lives.

That, combined with James' hatred for Maurice…

Well, Stefan was fairly certain that, if Snow and James were to have their way, Red would not have to pay for this murder, either.

But this time nobody could possibly claim that it had been an accident, that it wasn't her fault. And Stefan was going to make sure she finally paid the price for the lives she had taken.

A knock at the door pulled the king from his thoughts and caused the queen to stop her pacing. Then the door opened, and the queen's guard Edward entered the room.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head. He held a sheaf of papers in his hand.

"Well?" Leah demanded impatiently.

"The Blue Guard wishes to inform you that the results are in," he said. "The knife is a match for the stab wound that caused Sir Maurice's death, and the blood on the blade is type AB. Further, there was only one set of fingerprints on the knife's handle, and they belonged to Ruby Lucas."

Stefan glanced at Leah and said softly, "We have our killer."

* * *

When the woman tripped over the uneven cement and collapsed to the ground, dropping the bag of groceries she was carrying, King Charles immediately came to her aid. It was an automatic response, one that happened without any conscious thought on his part, and he was on his hands and knees gathering up spilled apples and a loaf of bread before he even realized it.

"Oh, thank you," the woman said before looking up and catching his gaze. "Oh… your Majesty," she started, blushing. "I didn't… you don't need to… I can manage…"

"Don't be silly," Charles replied, waiving away her concerns. "Let me help you." He gave her a critical look, and said, "That looked like a nasty fall. Is anything hurt?"

She smiled wanly. "Just my pride."

Charles laughed. "Don't worry about that," he said. "It heals quickly."

He knew quite a lot about pride. He'd had it in both his own kingdom and this strange land, though it had been very different in both places. In his kingdom, his pride had been in his family, and in his reputation as a fair and beloved leader.

Here…

Well, that was quite different. The person he had been under the Evil Queen's curse had been full of the wrong kind of pride. The pride that arose from material possessions and superficial power, the kind that spawned jealousy, the kind that twisted and soured every action.

He had kept his son away from Ella.

He had seen so clearly how much Thomas loved Ella, and he had seen just how much pain it had caused Ella when Thomas had been taken. And even though he knew that his actions in this world had been in some ways controlled by the curse and by Rumpelstiltskin's machinations, it was still hard to look back on what he had done and not feel shame.

Even not knowing who he was, who his son was, who Ella – or Ashley – was… even if he could claim that his lack of knowledge of the past and true love absolved him of some sins…

What kind of father forbid a son from being with the woman he loved? What kind of man refused to help a pregnant girl even when the father of her child was his own son?

Patrick Herman would never have rushed to help this poor woman with her arms full of groceries, but King Charles didn't hesitate to do so. The memories of both lives were fresh in his mind, and he didn't really know who he was anymore, but as he gathered up the last of the woman's groceries, he knew that at least he could say this better side was winning.

"Thank you, your Majesty," the woman said. "I'm sure you have other things to do, now that they've found that poor man's killer."

Charles frowned. "Other things?"

"With the trial…" the woman started, but then trailed off in confusion. "Aren't you overseeing the trial? Sir Maurice was a noble in your land, wasn't he?"

Charles' frown deepened. "He was," he agreed slowly. "But King Stefan and Queen Leah are managing the trial."

He had thrown his support in with Leah and Stefan the previous night because of his concern about the lack of leadership in the town. He had liked Snow and James well enough, and knew that his son and daughter-in-law thought very highly over them. But while he may have liked James, he had been dismayed by David's actions these past few weeks.

Working with Rumpelstiltskin? Had David forgotten what the Dark One had done to Thomas?

Allowing the Evil Queen to wander around freely? Were the lives she had destroyed so inconsequential to him?

Despite all that, Charles hadn't given much thought to ruling his own subjects. He recognized that this wasn't his kingdom and that matters were far more complicated here. With several kingdoms all forced into one town, and that town located in a land that had its own very distinct set of laws, who was in charge? Where did the power lie, and how did they draw the lines between the different groups of people here?

The only person who had any real right to authority was Emma Swan because she had been elected Sheriff by the town, even though they had all been their cursed selves when they'd elected her.

But Sheriff Swan wasn't here.

And ruling wasn't merely a right passed from parent to child: it was an obligation, a duty.

"I see," the woman said, lifting her bag of groceries and rising to her feet. "But King Stefan and Queen Leah do not know Sir Maurice, and… well, I think that if… if I were the one who had been killed, I would want it to be my king who was pursuing justice. You were always known for being fair and just and… and looked out for your subjects as best you could. Even after their death."

"Matters are complicated," Charles replied, climbing to his feet as well.

"Of course, your Majesty," the woman murmured, lowering her eyes. "Forgive me, it isn't my place to question your judgment."

No, Charles agreed silently, it wasn't her place to question his judgment. But lately his judgment had needed questioning, and he would be a fool to ignore his unease now.

He gave her another look, this time searching for some familiarity. But he did not recognize her at all. "Tell me, who were you before the curse?"

"No one. Just a man's wife, and then his widow."

"And your family? Your father? Who was he?"

The woman smiled, but their was no fondness in her eyes. "He was a miller," she replied.

* * *

Ruby had no visitors for the rest of the day. She knew they wouldn't let her grandmother visit her, but she had expected King Stefan to return, or perhaps one of his loyal servants. She wouldn't have even been surprised if King George had somehow slipped into the station to gloat. But she was left alone with nothing but silence and her own anger.

She desperately needed to talk to someone, even if it was only to yell at them. Being alone with her thoughts – with her unanswered questions and the uncertainty of this trial she would face – was driving her mad. She paced restlessly back and forth across the cell, slowly clenching and unclenching her fists.

Even a visit from Regina would have been preferable to this. The Evil Queen had to know of her predicament by now.

"Please," she whispered into the air, even though she knew there was no one to hear her, "send me someone. It doesn't matter who. Anyone is better than this."

And then, after the sun had set and night had fallen, the door to the station opened and a figure stepped through, and Ruby realized that there was in fact one person whose presence was _not_ preferable to the solitude.

"Belle," she choked out.

The brunette came forward. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were rimmed with red from all the tears she had cried.

"Ruby," she said softly, hoarsely, searching the werewolf's face for something. "Please… just tell me why."

"Why?" Ruby repeated, the word heavy on her tongue. She had hoped against all hope that Belle would somehow just _know_ that she hadn't done this, but that quiet question had shattered whatever illusion of friendship they'd had.

It was there, written plainly in every line of Belle's face. The girl believed that Ruby had killed her father.

"I didn't do it," Ruby snarled, her temper flaring. "Belle, I would _never_ kill someone like. How could you think that of me?"

"It was your knife," Belle answered, her voice shaking. "Your fingerprints on the weapon."

"My… my knife…?" Ruby stammered. King Stefan had not seen fit to share the details of the evidence against her, so she had no idea about this knife.

"You had means, opportunity… and motive," Belle said, "and it was _your_ knife. I don't want to believe, but... how can you deny it?"

Ruby grasped the bars tightly, holding on until the blood drained from her fingers and her knuckles turned white. "Belle, I swear to you that I didn't kill your father. I'm being framed, just like I was with Billy."

Belle hesitated, hope filling her gaze as she remembered Billy, but then her expression fell and she said, "The knife was from the diner's kitchen."

"So someone stole it!" Ruby retorted.

"Really?" Belle asked, and this time there was no trace of warmth in her words. Just skepticism. "Does your grandmother usually allow people to wander around her kitchen unsupervised?"

Ruby hesitated. The answers to that was an emphatic no. Granny was so fanatical about her kitchen being off limits that the few times she had hired someone to manage the cash register, those people had all eventually been fired because they had gone into the kitchen without permission. The only two ever allowed in the kitchen without supervision were Granny and Ruby.

Ruby gritted her teeth, then said, "Someone went in without Granny or I noticing."

Belle raised her eyebrows, and Ruby had to concede that that was incredibly unlikely. And each defense she made, each explanation for the evidence against her, seemed to push Belle further and further away. How could she hope to convince anyone of her innocence when her own friend thought she was a murderer?

"Then they broke in when we weren't there!" Ruby protested finally.

"Were there signs of a break in? Was the lock tampered with? Were things moved around?" Belle shot back, and it was clear by the frustration and the hurt in her tone that those questions had already been answered by the investigators, and they had been answered in the negative.

The only two people who had had access to the murder weapon were Granny and Ruby.

As far as frame-up jobs went, this was a very good one.

"Was it because of the things he said about you?" Belle asked, coming closer to the cell. "Was it because of what he said to _me_? Were you trying to protect me?" She was pleading then, and Ruby could tell how much Belle wanted her to say something that would make this… well, if not alright, then at least more bearable.

"I'm not the only one who had a problem with your father," Ruby growled furiously. Belle's beliefs felt like a betrayal, and that betrayal was eating away at her. But there was also resignation underneath it all. Snow was the only one who had simply accepted who she was without question, and very few people were like Snow. Perhaps it had been inevitable that Belle would turn on her, too.

"But it wasn't their knife!"

"Maybe Gold did it!" Ruby shot back. "He could have stolen the knife without leaving behind a trace. He has magic."

"He didn't do it! He swore to me he didn't do it."

That was the final straw; that her word was not worth as much as his. "And you believe him, but not me?" Ruby asked scornfully, the unfairness of the whole situation causing her to hit back hard. "How can you be so blind to what he is?"

"I see him for who he is," Belle answered steadily, "and for the man he is trying to be."

"Well, fine then," Ruby cried, throwing her hands into the air. "It wasn't him. He's a perfect saint. He would never use his magic to hurt people…"

And that was when it hit her, and she sank onto her cot in shock. Everything had happened so quickly, and her emotions had been running high. She had let her outrage and her fury consume her, and had not stopped to think about this calmly and rationally. It wasn't until this very moment that the answer became crystal clear.

"Belle," she whispered, "I didn't do it, but I know who did."

* * *

Breaking into the sheriff's station was easy with magic, but still an annoying distraction from plotting against Cora in peace.

Regina said as much the moment she appeared in a puff of purple smoke.

Ruby narrowed her eyes. "Well, I would have come to you, but I'm a little trapped right now."

Regina ignored the comment and instead glanced between Ruby and Belle. She could feel the tension in the room, though she didn't know what the cause of it could be. Belle was the one who had called her to explain the situation and pass along Ruby's request that they meet at the station, so clearly both were on the same side in this matter. And yet neither could look the other in the eye.

A disagreement of some sort had caused this; that, at least, was obvious.

Ruby cleared her throat to grab back Regina's attention, then gestured towards the lock on her cell. "I don't suppose you want to do something about that?" she asked.

Regina studied the cell, then sighed and said, "No, I don't." Ruby was momentarily speechless, clearly not expecting that answer, and Regina continued, "I see Stefan and Leah had the foresight to actually rebuild the sheriff's station after my little run in with the wraith. It's a pity David didn't think of that or you might have actually had the option of locking up dear King George."

"If Ruby really is innocent, why can't you let her go?" Belle asked. "You have the power."

There was a slight inflection on the word innocent, a clue to the puzzle before her. Regina felt a smile pull across her features as she realized that Belle had most likely initially come here believing Ruby to be guilty, and Ruby was unwilling to completely forgive her for it.

And Belle, Regina guessed, was bitter that Ruby would hold this against her when the case against Ruby was apparently so strong. Belle probably hadn't wanted to believe that Ruby was guilty, but as the evidence continued to pile up, it would have been harder and harder to discount it.

Two friends, both supposedly on the same side, and yet the seed of bitterness and discontent had already been sewn.

Regian could see her mother's handiwork in this, too.

"I have magic," Regina replied to Belle, "I will concede that point."

"And you won't use it?" Belle asked.

She had never really understood Rumpelstilskin's fascination with the girl. As far as she was concerned, Belle was sweet enough, and loyal to a fault, but lacked anything that could be considered a remotely interesting characteristic. There had to be something there – some fire, some passion – or else how could she have captured the love of the Dark One?

And yet what was this elusive quality? She seemed as dull as a mouse.

But even after being locked first in a tower and later in a mental hospital, Belle still met her gaze without flinching. That was something, Regina supposed.

She turned back towards Ruby. "This seems like something Leah would do," she said, as though Belle had not interrupted. "She must have had the foresight to order the cell fixed the moment they found Mr. French's body this morning, knowing that they would soon need it to lock up a suspect."

"So Leah has wonderful foresight," Ruby drawled. "Why exactly is that preventing you from letting me out?"

Regina smiled coolly. "It's been," she glanced at the clock, "twelve hours since the murder, but I'm not the only one with magic on my side. And Leah is smart. Smarter than most of your daft rulers." She walked over to the lock on the cell door and tapped on it once, and the metal immediately glowed blue.

Ruby jumped back from the bars in surprise. "What is that?" she breathed.

"Magic. Specifically meant to keep this lock from being tampered with." Regina tilted her head to the side. "It is clear that Stefan or Leah – or someone else with influence – was worried that I might try to break you out of prison. And they've thought of everything. I recognize that magic. I've felt it before."

"The magic we used to imprison you," Ruby whispered.

"Yes," Regina answered. "It seems Leah and Stefan have convinced the Blue Fairy to join their cause." Her smile was positively glacial as she said, "Of course, I have no doubt that Blue thinks she is doing the right thing. Locking up a murderer… who could blame her for trying to keep the town safe? I doubt she knew that the murderer would be _you_."

Ruby flinched, clearly upset both at the idea that she was trapped by an ally's magic and at the bitterness in Regina's voice when she spoke of the Blue Fairy.

"We should have told her about your mother," Ruby said.

Regina shook her head. "No," she said immediately. "She will insist on working with us."

"And that's a bad thing?" Ruby demanded.

"Yes," Regina replied, and refused to elaborate.

The Blue Fairy and Cora had a history, and not a pleasant one. But although that made the two of them enemies, and thus Regina and the fairy natural allies, the one-time mayor and Evil Queen was not about to put her faith in fairy magic. She didn't like or trust the fairies, and that was not going to change just because they were supposedly united against a common enemy.

Besides, Blue probably already knew, or would know soon. Leroy had been quite transparent in his concern for the fairies – or, rather, for one fairy in particular. He would warn Sister Astrid of the danger, and she would in turn tell Mother Superior. And the fairy would have her own ideas and her own plans.

Regina sighed.

Sooner or later Blue would come for her, and Regina was not looking forward to that conversation.

She laughed suddenly, the absurdity of the situation and the irony of what her mother had done not lost on her.

"What?" Belle asked sharply.

Regina gave her a disinterested look, then said to Ruby, "My mother has been here for a little over two days, and already she has managed to stir up trouble in the town, turn my most powerful ally against me, and imprison you. The only useful ally she has left me is a fairy I hate."

"So we fight her," Ruby said insistently.

"We do. And I wonder how much good it will do." Regina leaned forward and said with a gleam in her eyes, "I will bet you anything, Miss Lucas, that in another two days, this town will have gone up in flames."

Ruby didn't seem to have an answer to that, and so Belle broke the tense silence by asking, "Who is your most powerful ally?"

Regina just stared at her pointedly.

"Rumple wouldn't just do _nothing_ with Cora here…" Belle started defensively.

Ruby rolled her eyes at that, and Belle's expression hardened. Somewhere, Regina thought to herself, Cora was laughing.

"Save me your speeches about his good heart," Regina murmured, carelessly waving aside Belle's words. "He loves you, I will give him that. But he will happily let this town burn if it means keeping you safe. And no doubt that is exactly what my mother convinced him to do."

"How do you know?" Ruby asked, drawing Regina's attention back to her for a moment.

_Because that is what I would do for Henry._

The words were on her lips, but she didn't say them. Instead, she looked at Belle and said disparagingly, "Run along, dear. Your beloved Rumple has paid a high price for your life. I'd hate for that to go to waste."

"Cora killed my father," Belle argued. "I want to help stop her, and if everything everyone says about her is true, you're going to need all the help you can get."

Regina didn't bother answering that – they both knew it was true.

"So what now?" Belle asked, refusing to quail under Regina's sharp glare. "Do we tell everyone about your mother?"

"Do you think they will care?" Regina retorted. "Do you think they will believe us? Miss Lucas is the supposed murderer, you are the grieving daughter in love with the Dark One, an I am the Evil Queen. We are hardly the most trustworthy in their eyes." She looked at Ruby. "No, we are on our own for now. Until we can actually prove how dangerous Cora is, they will not help us."

"And I won't be any help to you locked up here," Ruby pointed out.

Regina considered this, then shrugged. "You weren't much help before you were locked up, either," she said bluntly. "All I need is a sitter for Henry, and your grandmother can do that well enough."

Ruby bristled at the implication that she was useless, but before she could say anything, Belle said, "I'll talk to Rumple. I can get him to help free Ruby and stop Cora. I know I can."

Regina just gave her a disbelieving look.

Belle jutted out her chin and said defiantly, "You underestimate how much he loves me."

"No," Regina said softly, "I don't. And that is why I know he won't help me."

* * *

Much later, after the moon had begun to set and the new day had just started, Regina found herself standing on the doorstep of the home belonging to someone she had hoped she would never see again. She stood in silence for a long time, unable to move forward and knock, and yet unable to walk away either. This was about protecting Henry, she knew, and for him, she could do this.

She hoped.

Slowly, painfully, she lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles on the door.

It swung open a few minutes later. The man standing there was wearing only boxers, and his hair was mussed up as though he had just been roused from sleep. But there was an alertness in his eyes that told Regina he had been up for quite some time.

"Regina," he said, and he didn't sound the least bit surprised to see her.

He was much older than her, and the lines on his face had deepened while his black hair was streaked with gray. But it wasn't his physical age that seemed to hang over him, but rather something else, something mental and emotion that dragged him down.

A lifetime of loss, of pain.

"We had an… understanding," he said. "Did that change?"

Regina studied him. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked, ignoring his question.

He returned her searching look with one of his own. "Not since the curse broke. Memories I'd rather forget keep slipping into my dreams." His words became hard, caustic. "I didn't realize you cared."

"I don't," Regina said, "but I am about to tell you something that will make your nightmares so much worse."

"Are you?" he asked skeptically.

"My mother is here, in Storybrooke."

The man froze.

"And I am here, asking you for help, because you are the only person in this town besides Rumplestilskin and myself who can truly appreciate just what this means for us."

He nodded slowly. "I suppose I am," he said in a whisper.

"May I come in, Uncle?" Regina asked.

Her uncle nodded wordlessly and stepped aside, allowing her into his house.


	11. Ocean's Edge

A/N: The next few chapters will focus on Emma and Mary Margaret's attempt to get back to Storybrooke, and will also have the first of the characters' histories I am planning to include in this story.

Chapter Eleven: Ocean's Edge

"Emma, come on, get up."

Emma opened her eyes slowly, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. Mary Margaret was leaning over her, shaking her shoulder, but her eyes were turned sideways to focus on Hook as though she was afraid if she let him out of her sight for even a second, he would disappear.

Emma started into a sitting position. "Third day," she said, and scrambled to her feet in anticipation. Hook had estimated it would take three days to walk to his ship, and today was the third day. They should reach the ocean by nightfall.

"Put out the fire," Hook ordered tersely, nodding his head towards the still smoldering embers. There was something odd in his voice, an inflection that made Emma pause and study his features.

"You're worried," she said with a frown. She glanced over her shoulder, then turned in a full circle. "Is someone following us?"

"Who is left to follow us?" Mary Margaret countered pointedly. "Cora killed everyone… and we don't know where Mulan and Aurora are."

Emma felt a twinge of guilt at that statement, but pushed it down as firmly as possible. She'd already been through this reasoning more than once. They didn't even know where their two friends were, and even if they had known, they simply did not have time to go after Mulan and Aurora if they were to make it back to Storybrooke and stop Cora from destroying everything they loved. They could find a way back to this land after they had dealt with Cora, and they would rescue their friends then. But for now, they had to trust that Mulan could keep Aurora safe until they were able to reach them.

The reasoning was sound and logical and really couldn't be argued with – but it didn't quite assuage the guilt.

However, the look of unease in Hook's gaze pulled her thoughts away from Mulan and Aurora. "The ogres?" she asked sharply, not yet ready to face another one of those monsters.

"The ogres wouldn't notice a fire," Mary Margaret replied. "We're fine, Emma. No one is following us."

Emma wasn't convinced, but decided not to press the issue. She would keep an eye on Hook, and they would address the problem when it came.

Her stomach rumbled.

They hadn't eaten particularly well the last two days. Hook had brought back some kind of meat for each meal, and Emma had very deliberately neglected to ask what it was. Mary Margaret had collected some berries the first day and dug up some edible roots the second, remarking idly to Emma that identifying nonpoisonous plants was one of the things she had learned as a fugitive hiding in the woods.

It was a life Emma couldn't imagine, and each meal had been a reminder of how much she did not fit into this strange land that had been her birthplace.

But now it was just a ruin, and even Mary Margaret didn't seem to have any desire to call this place home.

"What I wouldn't give for one of Granny's burgers right now," Emma muttered.

Hook smirked, clearly amused. Then he lifted his eyes towards the sky, scanning for something.

Emma followed his gaze but saw nothing. She rubbed at her eyes, brushing away the dirt that had gathered in the creases of her skin overnight. She was grimy and dusty and desperately needed a shower.

But first they needed to get home.

She turned to Hook again. "What?" she snapped, her tone a bit harsher than she had intended. But worry shortened her temper, and there was something about the pirate that managed to get under her skin.

Hook shrugged, then said, "Feels like we're being watched."

Despite her insistence that everything was fine, Mary Margaret still reacted automatically to those words. Her hands closed immediately over her bow as she swiveled, turning in a slow circle. "I don't see any movement," she replied.

"Exactly," Hook confirmed.

Mary Margaret blinked at him, and then a look of concern crossed her features. She quickly kicked dirt into the fire and beckoned to Emma.

"Let's go," she said hurriedly.

Emma followed. "What it is?" she asked Mary Margaret urgently. Hook might not see any reason to tell her his suspicions – or perhaps he just enjoyed withholding information that he knew she wanted – but Mary Margaret would explain.

Mary Margaret lowered her voice and murmured, "No wind."

Emma opened her mouth to respond, then snapped it shut and instead turned her gaze back towards the sky. The tree branches above them were silent, with no wind to rustle through the leaves or cause the limbs to sway. The bushes and shrubs and tall grass that dotted the landscape between the tree trunks and sprawled across the ground were still as well.

It wasn't hot, and the air was not as stifling as Emma would have expected with no wind. It was just quiet.

And unnatural.

"What does that mean?" she asked, lowering her gaze just in time to keep herself from tripping over a gnarled tree root.

"I don't know," Mary Margaret admitted, "but it can't be anything good."

"Cora?"

"Maybe."

"But… how can Cora be watching us?" Emma asked, thinking back to Hook's suspicions. "If there was a way to communicate between the two worlds, David wouldn't have gone under the curse."

Mary Margaret flinched at the reminder of her beloved trapped in that horrible room of tile and flame, and Emma felt a pang of guilt for bringing it up. She knew it haunted her mother, knew that every extra second they were in this place felt like an extra second that Mary Margaret was somehow letting David down, and nothing Emma could say would change that.

But it was still a valid question. How could Cora be watching them if both Regina and Gold had failed to find a safe way to communicate?

"Maybe she knows something they don't," Mary Margaret suggested after a long pause.

"Is she really that powerful?" Emma asked. The question seemed somewhat foolish the moment it left her lips – _of course_ Cora was powerful. Emma had seen first hand what Cora could do, and although she had heard stories from Henry and Mary Margaret, she hadn't actually _seen_ Regina and Gold use their magic – hadn't _experienced_ it.

Except for falling through the hat, and she still wasn't entirely sure how that had happened.

So the thought of Cora's magic caused a instinctual fear to coalesce in her stomach, while Gold and Regina's magic was more of a curiosity that she knew logically was dangerous but felt no emotional response to. But hadn't Mary Margaret said that Gold was powerful enough to stop Cora? And if that was the case, how could Cora know something that Gold did not?

"Yes," Mary Margaret answered flatly, "she really is that powerful."

It was clear from the bitterness of her tone that Mary Margaret was thinking of all the pain Cora had caused, and it was far more than simply beating them to Storybrooke. If Cora had never killed Daniel, where would they all be now?

And what kind of woman killed her daughter's true love?

Of course, Regina had had no qualms about putting Emma into an enchanted sleep despite what that would do to Henry. So perhaps the apple hadn't fallen very far from the tree? Neither woman seemed particularly good at knowing how to love someone.

Mary Margaret interrupted Emma's thoughts by adding in a low tone, as though dropping her voice to a whisper could somehow protect them from anyone who might be magically listening, "Regina and Gold were looking for a way to communicate with us. Cora isn't. Maybe whatever she wants to do is easier, or it requires a different kind of magic, or…"

"Or Rumpelstiltskin and the Evil Queen weren't really trying to help you," Hook suggested pointedly, glancing over his shoulder at the two of them.

Emma frowned at that, but when she opened her mouth to argue the point, she realized that she had nothing to say. Was it possible that Regina and Gold hadn't been trying all that hard to help them? They had wanted to stop Cora – that much was obvious. But had they truly wanted to plan a rescue, or had they only been pretending to help?

Gold had sent them to the squid ink, but had neglected to tell them that the ink was on the paper, and they had lost valuable time stuck in that cell unable to think of a way out. Had he been merely withholding information for his own amusement, or had he been trying to slow them down?

But how would that help him stop Cora?

Or… or had he not actually wanted to stop Cora? Mary Margaret had given Emma a good reason to believe that Regina would do everything in her power to keep Cora away from Henry, but what if Gold did not have the same concerns? What if he had wanted Cora in Storybrooke all along?

Was David the only one who had actually been trying to save them? David, the one without magic, the one who couldn't reach them until he allowed himself to be put under a sleeping curse…

Had Regina known that Snow wouldn't be able to wake David, that he would remained trapped in an enchanted sleep while Snow was stuck in a different world? Had she used this as a way to get rid of her two biggest enemies?

Emma exchanged a quick look with Mary Margaret, and it was clear that she was thinking the same thing.

The blonde sighed. "We'll be back in Storybrooke soon," she murmured, "and we can deal with everything then."

* * *

They reached the ocean as the sun began to set.

Hook had been right that it would take them three days to cross the land by foot, and as they stumbled wearily out of the trees and onto the sandy beach, Emma thought she had never seen anything as welcome as the expanse of glittering blue water stretched out before them.

"Where is your ship?" she asked, scanning the water for any sign of a vessel.

"Behind the bend," Hook replied, pointing with his hook towards a place ahead of them where the beach curved out of sight. "There is a cove there, and the water is deep enough to moor the boat. It's called Smuggler's Den."

"Oh?"

"A few hundred years ago, smugglers built a makeshift dock in the cove. It's hard to reach, and even harder to see from the ocean or the beach," Hook explained with a satisfied smirk. "Makes it perfect for hiding something you don't want people to find."

"If you're quite done bragging about your criminal exploits," Mary Margaret interrupted, "we should keep walking if we're going to reach the ship before dark."

Hook's smirk widened into a grin. "Are you sure you don't want to hear about all the things I did there?" His eyes flicked to Emma and his grin turned lascivious as he added, "And the people I did them with…? I can give you a private tour of some of the more… isolated… parts of that cove, lass."

Emma saw Mary Margaret stiffen. She knew her mother was quite close to losing her temper at the pirate, but that would only amuse Hook. He was trying to get a rise out of the two of them, and hitting on Emma seemed to be the way to do it.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Just keep walking," she snapped, stepping discreetly in between Mary Margaret and the pirate.

"As you wish," Hook replied with a wink, "but let me know if you change your mind."

Emma glanced away from the pirate and out towards the water. The ocean was dotted with small islands, most of them little more than a slice of land with a few trees. Their presence made the waves choppy…

Choppy.

She looked around. "The wind is back," she murmured to Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret nodded in agreement. "It is. And that's good, because I don't know how we would have gotten the ship out to sea otherwise." But even as she said the words she was looking up towards the sky with a puzzled expression, as though she couldn't quite figure out why the wind was back.

Or where it had gone.

Emma opted not to dwell on that mystery, and instead turned her attention to Hook. "How far out do we need to sail before we can open the portal? Does the water need to be a certain depth?"

Hook raised an eyebrow and said somewhat mockingly, "It's a _magical_ portal. Do you really think it depends on the depth of the water?"

Emma bristled.

Before she could say anything, however, the pirate had turned back towards the water with a thoughtful stare. "The portal will be quite wide, though," he mused, "and will create a sort of whirlpool in the water. We need to sail past the islands."

"So a magical portal doesn't depend on depth, but it does depend on width?" Emma questioned. She blinked. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Those are the laws of magic," Hook replied, "at least the ones that revolve around magical beans." He quickened his pace as they began to cross the beach. "I'd advise you to learn them, because Cora will certainly be using magic against you, but I doubt it will matter once we reach your world. Magic behaves differently everywhere."

"Why?" Emma asked.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Because it's _magic," _he said simply, "and magic depends on the world it inhabits. There is only one constant." He turned away from her, and said somberly, "It always comes with a price."

* * *

The rocks under their feet were damp and slippery, and moss grew in the cracks and crevices in the stone. Hook walked quickly but carefully, choosing each step with caution. He could hear Emma slipping on the stones behind him, her steps less sure and less careful than his own. She walked too hurriedly and too loudly, and without paying much attention to her surroundings.

If she continued acting without thinking, if she continued rushing into everything, Cora would defeat her easily.

Hook wasn't entirely sure if that thought upset him.

The path led between the rocks that surrounded the cove. It started as dirt and pine needles mixing in with the sand, but as they rose higher it turned to stone. Now it twisted and turned through several maze-like passageways before opening out over the smell inlet of water.

The overwhelming smell of salt rushed up towards him, and a smile curved his lips. They were here at last.

The other two stumbled out behind him. Emma and Snow – no, he shook his head, reminding himself that she went by Mary Margaret now, even if Cora had referred to her by a different name. Emma and Mary Margaret both drew breath at the sight of the steep cliff that dropped precipitously towards the water. One misstep, and they would fall.

"Careful," he warned with a smirk.

"Is that your boat?" Emma asked.

"Ship," he corrected automatically, looking towards the _Jolly Roger_. It floated in the center of the cove near the slender passageway that led out into the open ocean. The anchor held it in place, preventing it from smashing against the rock walls, and a rope tied it to the small wooden dock that jutted out over the water at the base of the cliff.

It wasn't a large ship. In fact, most pirate ships he'd encountered on the seas – as well as most of the merchant ships and _all_ of the royal naval ships – had been larger than his own.

But none of their captains knew how to disappear through portals into other worlds. And none of their captains would have had the skill necessary to survive following him should they get sucked into a portal he had opened.

He turned back towards Emma and gestured towards his right where uneven steps had been carved into the stone and the path descended over loose rubble. "Try not to fall," he warned.

"There is nothing to hold onto," Emma murmured, running her palm at the smooth cliff face.

"You can hold my hand if you'd like," Hook offered suggestively.

She glared at him.

He laughed outright at the annoyance in her eyes and the look of anger that momentarily flashed through Mary Margaret's expression, then turned away from them both and began the treacherous descent to his ship.

For all her guarded caution, Emma Swan was quite easy to read. He saw the way she looked at Mary Margaret when she thought no one was watching, saw the mixture of longing and trepidation. Neither of his companions seemed to be quite comfortable with the odd relationship they were now navigating, and although Emma was growing more accustomed to it with every passing day, he still saw the unease in her gaze.

And he saw all the other things in her gaze as well – the past heartbreaks, the mistrust of anyone who claimed to be helping, the fear of betrayal that only one who had actually been betrayed could feel so keenly…

He'd seen those looks on the faces of several little lost boys a long time ago.

He'd been able to play on their fears then, and he would be able to play on Emma's fears now, if he needed to. He'd been around long enough to become very good at it. After all, manipulation was a necessary skill for a conman and a liar, and he was both of those.

Understanding his enemy was important, after all.

He wasn't entirely sure if they were enemies – but Emma Swan had made it quite clear when she locked that metal cuff around his wrist and left him behind on the beanstalk that she was not his ally. She'd fooled him once, but he would not make the same mistake a second time.

So where did that leave them?

It was an interesting thought, and one he would ponder some other time. At the moment, he had to focus on his ship.

The sun had all but set as they stepped over the wooden planks and onto the ship. He climbed aboard slowly, thankful to be back on the familiar deck.

"Nice boat," Emma said dryly.

She was trying to get a rise out of him, and he didn't bother correcting her this time. Instead, he ran his hand over the wooden railing as he climbed towards the mast, and his mind began to wander back over memories from a long time ago.

* * *

_The storm raged._

_The moonless sky was so dark he could barely make out the rope in his hands or the cloth of the sails above his head. He could hear the cries of the crew above the wind, but the words were indistinguishable from the crashing of waves against the side of the ship and the patter of rain falling down all around them. The ship lurched from side to side, rising and falling with each tumultuous rush of the water._

_The mainsail had ripped down the center, and the rope holding it to the main mast was unraveling quickly. He pulled at it, attempting desperately to lower the sail. They had to lower all the sails, or the storm would surely sink them._

_Someone was climbing the shrouds above him, moving slowly towards the topsail. Another was attempting to climb down from the crow's nest, but the rope was dangerously slippery and he doubted they would make it down in one piece. But staying above was even more hazardous in this weather...  
_

_The storm had come without warning, and it was threatening to kill them all. He could have turned away from it, instead of sailing directly into the chaos of wind and rain, but that would have led to an even worse outcome. This was their only chance, and when he had given the order to press forward directly into the wind, he had seen the determination on his crew's faces.  
_

_They refused to be captured._

_To his right and left, oars slapped against the water. They had to keep moving, had to wait it out, had to hope that this storm destroyed the other ship..._

"_Captain Jones!" _

_He heard the call and turned, squinting through the downpour. A figure moved behind him, coming closer, and he caught a glimpse of something ridiculously large sticking out of the man's hat._

_A feather._

_His first mate._

"_What?" Jones asked, sputtering through a mouthful of rainwater as the first mate half-walked, half-stumbled towards him._

"_They're closing in on us," the first mate yelled, struggling to be heard above the noise._

_A sudden flash of lightning lit up the sky, and Jones was able to make out the silhouette of the naval ship. It was indeed gaining on them, and soon enough it would be within firing range._

_He had hoped they could lose their pursuer in the storm, but the admiral of the distant ship was clearly either too stubborn or too stupid to give up the chase. Or perhaps he was too greedy. _

_In an attempt to combat the growing piracy on the seas, the king had offered land and money to anyone who brought in a pirate captain and his crew. As though that would change anything. Did the fool really believe he could stop piracy? Didn't he know that if he cut down one pirate a dozen more would spring up in his place?_

"_Cap-" Jones heard another cry, but the crash of thunder cut off whoever was speaking, and the warning was lost. It didn't matter, though, because the new danger became apparent soon enough._

"_Oh, merciful heavens…" the first mate nearly shrieked, his words ending with a gasp of horror._

_Jones twisted, following his first mate's gaze, and felt his heart momentarily stop beating. Before them, the sea swirled around and then seemed to open up. A whirlpool, a giant mouth, a bottomless pit…_

_And they were headed right towards it._

_The shock of the unexpected sight was enough to make him momentarily loosen his grip on the rope in his hands. He came to his senses a fraction of a second later, but it was too late. The rope slipped free of his grasp and flew into the air, and all his attempts to grab at it were in vain. The sail unraveled, caught up in a sudden gust of wind, and the pressure of the wind caused the mast to splinter and snap with an earsplitting crack._

_The boom swung across the deck, hitting Jones squarely in the chest and sending him flying through the air. His head hit the railing as he flew over the side of the ship, and his last thought before he lost consciousness was that he did not want to drown._

* * *

"Hook!"

He blinked, and the memory faded.

"What are you waiting for?" Emma demanded. "Let's go!"

Hook lifted his chin and nodded towards the rapidly sinking sun. "It is dangerous to try to sail the ship through the islands and their surrounding reefs at night," he countered. "We need to wait for morning."

"But…"

"In the dark, we'd be lucky to make it out of the cove without crashing onto the rocks," he added.

Emma placed her hands on her hips. "I thought you were a _pirate_," she snapped. "Aren't pirates supposed to be good at sailing at night? Isn't that when they attack and plunder?"

Hook stared at Emma for a moment, then turned his attention to Mary Margaret. "What do people learn in this world of yours?" he demanded.

"Stereotypes," Mary Margaret answered softly, almost distractedly, as she stepped past him and walked towards the bow. Her gaze was fixed on the thin opening of the cove and the ocean beyond, but then she paused and looked back. "But I agree with Emma. We don't have time to wait until sunup."

"Getting shipwrecked won't get us to your town any faster," Hook countered.

"So what you're saying is that you aren't a good enough pirate to sail at night?" Emma asked sharply.

Hook tensed immediately at the insult, even though he knew exactly what Emma was trying to do – what she was succeeding in doing. The fact of the matter was that _of course_ he was a good enough pirate to be able to sail at night. His… profession… might not be quite as nocturnal as it was apparently thought to be in Emma's world, but some of the best piracy occurred at night. He'd learned to sail in any weather condition, and through any set of dangers, and he was _good_ at it.

He'd learned to sail through whirlpools, and there were very few who could boast that feat.

It would be dangerous to sail through the cove and the surrounding islands now, but not impossible. Of course, it certainly didn't help matters that his crew consisted of two untried and untrained land-lovers. They'd probably never sailed a ship in their life, and he was used to navigating treacherous waters with a more advanced crew.

Once upon a time, he would have rather died in a storm then been taken in chains to the king. But if he died here, he would never get a chance to skin his crocodile, and he had waited too long to lose the opportunity for revenge now.

Pirates were reckless and rash by nature, but he'd learned how to bide his time. He could wait.

"You don't fly a pirate's flag," Emma said abruptly, looking up towards the sail.

"What is a pirate's flag?" Hook asked.

"You know… white skull and crossbones on a black cloth? Don't all pirates have that flag?"

He stared at her blankly, baffled. Where did she get these ridiculous ideas? Mary Margaret had said that although the fairy tales in this other world were hardly ever completely correct, there was always a grain of truth in them. But he was starting to think the fallacies far outweighed any of the truths.

"If all pirates flew the same flag," he said logically, "how would we be able to tell the difference between the ships?"

Emma did not have an answer.

"Never mind that," Mary Margaret interrupted harshly. "Are we going to get underway or are you too scared?"

Hook sighed, his pride winning out against his common sense. "Come on," he said sourly, "I'll show you what you need to do. You're not the first incompetent crew I've trained."

* * *

_He coughed, and was suddenly awake._

_The sun was hot and bright. He reached up to shade his eyes from its unnatural glow. His mind felt foggy, and he couldn't quite figure out what had happened or where he was. He remembered the storm – the cold and the rain and the lightning…_

_And then what?_

_The whirlpool._

_He clambered to his feet. His entire body ached. His arms were marred with bruises, and he had no doubt the rest of his skin would be as well. His clothing was still damp, and stiff with saltwater. Blood and sweat dripped into his eyes.  
_

_But he was alive. That was something._

_He looked around._

_He was on a beach. The beach was rocky, and small tide pools had formed all around him. Before him, the rocks eventually gave way to sand, and then to an ocean that seemed just a little bit too blue to be natural. Behind him, the rocks extended until they reached the edge of a forest._

_It would have been beautiful, except for the bodies._

_His ship had seemingly crashed upon this beach. The mainmast was broken, the sail ripped, the crow's nest flung towards the forest, and the foremast had snapped in two as well as was drifting out to sea. There was a hole in the bottom of the ship where a giant rock had cut through the wood, destroying everything it touched._

_And his crew…_

_They were dead._

_He picked his way through the rocks, pausing at each body to check for any signs of life. The first mate lay closest to him, one hand wrapped tightly around that ridiculous feather he had so treasured. The others were sprawled between him and the ruins of his ship; the chief cook with his frozen blue lips and a look of horror in his unseeing eyes, the steward with blood matted to his white-blonde hair, the boatswain, the other seamen…_

"_They're all dead," a voice said. "You only survived because you weren't on the ship when it fell through the portal."_

_Jones spun around, reaching automatically for the sword that should have been at his belt. But it wasn't there – had it been knocked loose during the storm? – and so he reached instead for a fist-sized rock near his feet, hoping it could serve as a decent weapon._

_A figure stepped out from the trees._

_He was a boy, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. His hair was a mess of unruly brown curls and he wore green breeches and a green tunic, brown boots, a brown belt, and a bow and quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder. He smiled easily, lips curling upwards and revealing perfect white teeth that stood out against his tan skin._

_But there was something unnerving about his eyes._

"_Who are you?" Jones demanded. "And what is this place?"_

"_This is Neverland," the boy replied. "The whirlpool was a portal between worlds. The ship fell through it and crashed on this beach." His smile faltered slightly. "It is possible to sail through the portal – or so I've been told. But it takes a lot of skill, so I've never tried it."_

"_Where did the portal come from?" Jones demanded._

_The boy shrugged. "Sometimes, if the storm is strong enough, they just appear."_

_Jones narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He didn't know much about magic, but he was fairly certain that portals to other worlds did not just appear. Something – or someone – called them or created them or manipulated them._

_Someone had done this, had opened a portal that had destroyed his ship and killed his crew._

"_You never told me your name."_

_The boy gave an overdone bow. "Chief Peter Pan, at your service."_

"_Chief?" Jones scoffed. "How old are you?"_

_Before the words had left his mouth, Peter Pan had drawn and arrow from his quiver, fitted it to his bow, and let it fly. The motion happened so quickly that Jones barely had time to follow it, and then the arrow tore through the waterlogged leather of one of his boots, just barely grazing his skin, and buried itself in the crevice of a rock just behind him._

_The boy's expression was hard as he answered, "Older than I look."_

_Jones tensed. He didn't like this situation. He didn't like not having a decent weapon, didn't like having some upstart boy showing off tricks with his bow and arrows, treating him like a child._

"_And what is your name?" the boy asked._

"_Captain Killian Jones," he answered slowly._

"_And you are the captain of this ship?" Peter Pan asked, eyes flicking to the ruins behind them._

"_I was," Jones answered sardonically. "It's not much of a ship now, though, is it?"  
_

"_Are you a merchant? A member of a navy?"_

"_I'm a pirate," Jones replied, and flashed a wholly untrustworthy smile._

_This admission did not seem to daunt the boy. In fact, if anything he looked even more intrigued. "You were sailing into a storm to outrun another ship," he said, and though it was not phrased as a question, there was curiosity in his voice._

_"How do you know that?" Jones demanded._

"_I saw it through the portal," was the reply. Peter Pan stared at him for another long moment, then said, "Isn't sailing into a storm dangerous?"_

"_Yes," Jones replied mockingly, "but so is being caught by the royal navy. I'm a _pirate_, lad."_

"_Chief," Peter Pan corrected, his voice hard. "And I would guess that I am older than you, _boy_. So watch your tongue unless you want me to take it from you." He drew another arrow slowly. "As you saw, I am quite a good shot."_

_Jones bristled at the insult, but said nothing. He only had a rock and he was trapped in a strange world, and the boy had a bow and arrows and seemed to know this world quite well, so it would do no good to start an argument now. He was a pirate, true – but that did not make him a fool, and it did not mean he courted danger needlessly. He was at the boy's mercy… for now. But sooner or later he wouldn't be, and when that happened, he would repay this humiliation in kind._

_Peter Pan smiled, all traces of anger gone, but still those eyes glinted unnervingly. "I have a proposition for you. You are a pirate without a crew. I have a crew and a ship, but no one skilled enough to sail it through the portal. Join my crew, Captain Jones, and I believe that we can help each other."_

_Jones weighed his options carefully. The idea of joining anyone's crew was appalling. He was a captain; he gave the orders, he did not follow them. But he was stuck in a strange world without a crew or a ship, and no way to get home. If he played his cards right…_

_"And suppose I agree to captain your ship," he asked. "Where would we go?"_

"_If you can sail through the portal, you can go anywhere you want," Peter Pan replied. "There are many worlds out there, many places to plunder._

_Jones smiled. "Does your ship have a name?" he asked.  
_

_"It does," Peter Pan answered. "It's called the _Jolly Roger_."_


	12. Midnight Storm

Chapter Twelve: Midnight Storm

"How much further?"

Hook glanced over his shoulder at the blonde and said pointedly, and with a hint of impatience creeping into his tone, "No matter how many times you ask that question, the answer will always be the same. Until we get past the islands."

"Yes, but…"

"And it is going to take a lot longer if you keep distracting me," he added, smirking inwardly at the look of aggravation in Emma's hard stare.

Emma frowned and turned back to her tasks aboard the ship. He watched her for a brief moment, making sure that she was actually paying attention to all that she had to do, then turned his own gaze towards the ocean and the islands that could very well shipwreck them if he wasn't careful.

He gritted his teeth. He could perfectly understand why Emma was impatient, but her continued questioning was more than a little irritating. He was a _pirate_ and she was just a girl from some ridiculous world where apparently people didn't travel by ship anymore. She really should just accept the fact that he was in charge here.

Not that she ever would.

A smile curved his lips. She wouldn't be the first person who had refused to acknowledge his right to lead… and that hadn't ended particularly well for Peter Pan, had it?

The ship lurched uneasily, and he frowned at the way it rocked on the waves. He'd done the best he could training his two passengers, but they weren't sailors and neither of them had been particularly adept at learning.

Of course, being a sailor was no guarantee of prowess. Half the sailors he had encountered in his many years as a pirate had been worthless land-lovers, and he'd quite quickly and easily cut them down to size.

Sometimes literally.

But even with only semi-competent help he knew he would be able to navigate the islands and the even more dangerous portal. And then, once they were safely in this town of Storybrooke, he would finally be able to rid himself of the constant suspicion and supervision of these two meddling women.

And he could find himself a crocodile.

He chanced another quick look over his shoulder and saw Mary Margaret watching him. Neither would be willing to let down their guard around him, particularly not in this new world they called their home. They had too much they were trying to protect, and they viewed him as a threat.

As well they should. He had only one goal, and if they got in his way... Nothing was going to stop him from getting his revenge. This time Rumpelstiltskin would be the one to lost everything he held dear, and then he could see what a lifetime of bitter loneliness felt like.

But first, Hook mused, he would need to find a way to slip away from Mary Margaret and Emma's watchful gazes.

Well… he was confident he could do that.

He'd done it before, after all. And Peter Pan had been a far greater threat. The boy chief had at least understood just how dangerous the world was, and how foolish it was to trust anyone.

* * *

_There was no doubt in his mind that Peter Pan did not trust him._

_Jones could not fault him for that – anyone with half a brain would know it was idiotic to trust a pirate. And the boy chief was far cleverer than most of the fools Jones had encountered back in his own world._

_Jones contemplated this as he watched Peter through half-closed eyes. The others had long since fallen asleep, but Peter was still awake, pushing at the fire with a long stick._

_The boy chief rarely slept. For all its idyllic appearance, Neverland was not the safest of places. The mermaids were notoriously mischievous, and the natives who lived in the jungle had no love for the boy chief and his little band of followers. Even the fairies seemed to take pleasure in tricking innocent people._

_The tricks were all rather petty and thoughtless. Sometimes they were stupidly dangerous, and Jones had nearly drown the first time he'd met a mermaid, but the intent behind the actions was never malicious. It was merely…_

_Childish. As though no one native to this world had any concept of an action having consequences._

_It made sense. The first night after the shipwreck, one of Peter's followers had explained that, in Neverland, no one ever grew up. Clearly, they didn't develop maturity or anything more than a basic child's understanding of ethics, either._

_And wasn't it just ironic, that criticism coming from a pirate?_

_Jones had been here nearly three weeks, and he was growing restless. The boy chief had given him little cause to complain. He was given free reign to train the others however he saw fit, and Peter never questioned his skills in sailing._

_And yet._

_It wasn't enough. Jones was a pirate _captain_, not some lackey doing another's bidding. And even if Peter hadn't flaunted his authority or his power since that first meeting on the beach three weeks ago, Jones was never able to forget who was really in charge._

_It galled him._

_Peter dropped his stick suddenly and turned to Jones. "You're awake."_

"_I am," Jones agreed._

_The boy chief frowned thoughtfully. The light of the fire reflected in his unsettling eyes. "How much longer until the crew is ready?"_

"_To sail through a portal? Weeks. Months, maybe," Jones replied. "They can sail on calm waters with a clear blue sky, but I wouldn't trust this in a storm. And I certainly wouldn't trust them going through a portal."_

_Peter's frown deepened. He was clearly displeased, but he didn't push the issue._

"_Are you in a rush?" Jones asked curiously._

"_Me?" Peter replied, rising to his feet and stretching. "Of course not." He flashed a smirk. "I've got all the time in the world." He turned away from Jones then and said, "I'm going to take a walk."_

_Jones nodded even though Peter couldn't see, and the boy chief left._

_The pirate sat quietly for a long time, staring at the dying fire. He'd tried once or twice to discover if any of Peter's followers harbored resentment against their leader, but he'd been unable to discover anything useful. They were loyal to a fault._

_Next to Jones, a figure grumbled and groaned and turned over in his sleep. The movement must have caused some discomfort, because he awoke with an abrupt start and stared about wildly, trying to peer through the gloom._

"_Jones?"_

"_Starkey," Jones replied, inclining his head._

_Starkey was the oldest of Peter's followers, at least by appearances. It was hard to know how old anyone was. He had dark black hair and blue eyes and never smiled, but Jones liked him the most of everyone here. There was something devious underneath his dour façade._

_In another life, Jones thought Starkey might have made a good pirate._

"_Where's the chief?" Starkey asked, glancing around._

"_Went for a walk," Jones replied._

"_Ah."_

"_He's getting impatient," Jones added. "Wants you all to be ready by now. I don't think he realized how much time this would take."_

_Starkey shrugged and didn't say anything. Speaking ill of Peter Pan was akin to sacrilege._

_They were silent for a long time, then Jones asked abruptly, "Starkey? How did you end up in Neverland?"_

"_Fell."_

"_You… fell?"_

"_Mm. Uh huh."_

_Jones raised his eyebrows. "Can you give any other details?"_

_Starkey propped himself up on his elbows and stared into the flames, contemplating this. He was silent for a long time, and Jones thought he might not answer, but then he said, "I was out in the field at my father's farm one day, and a hole appeared in the ground. I just… fell."_

"_How long ago was this?"_

"_I don't know. Years. Decades, maybe? Before the chief came."_

_Jones blinked. "Wait, you were in Neverland before Peter Pan?" he demanded._

"_Yes. Ed Teynte and Bill Jukes were here, too. And some others… but they died."_

_Jones closed his eyes, thinking. This was the first that he had heard of any of this, and prior to the conversation he had merely assumed that Peter Pan was the chief because he had been in Neverland longer than anyone else, and could therefore set himself up as an authority figure. But if he had been a newer arrival, if there had been at least three others here first…_

_How had he managed to become chief? And why didn't anyone resent him for that?_

_He opened his eyes to ask Starkey for more of the story, but the other man had fallen back asleep._

* * *

They passed the islands without much trouble.

As soon as they had cleared the last of the reefs, Hook withdrew the revived bean from within the pocket of his shirt and closed his fingers around it tightly. As always, the thrill of anticipation rushed through him at the thought of entering the portal. This was dangerous sailing, and even with all his experience, even with his confidence that he _could_ safely get himself and his ship to another realm, he was still nervous.

But he kept a calm exterior. At no point had he ever allowed anyone to see anything but supreme confidence. Even the first time he had sailed a ship – manned by a half-witted, poorly-trained crew – through a portal, he had refused to show even the slightest bit of fear. Let the others pray for a miracle to whatever they believed in; he would not display such weakness.

A smile curled his lips. He was _so_ close to finally getting his revenge.

He drew back his arm and threw the bean, sending it sailing into the air in a high arc. He kept his eyes trained on it until it was swallowed up by the darkness of the night, and then a moment later it must have hit the water because a portal appeared.

He heard both Emma and Mary Margaret take an involuntary gasp of breath at the sight.

But instead of directing the ship forward, Hook turned to his two companions and said, "Once we enter the portal, every little mistake could destroy the ship and endanger all of us."

"Yes, we _know_," Emma snapped impatiently, waiving away his concerns as though they were unimportant. "You told us this many times. Let's just get going."

She clearly did not have the patience for repetition, even when that repetition could save her life.

"I'd rather my ship didn't end up in pieces in your world," Hook countered pointedly. He'd waited several hundred years for his revenge, and he could wait a little bit longer if that meant that they got it right this time.

"And I'd rather Cora didn't get to my _son_," Emma shot back, taking a threatening step forward. She _didn't_ have time, and neither did her son, and they all knew that.

But Hook refused to be swayed. This was his ship, and no one, not even Emma Swan, was going to put it in danger. He'd put far too much time and effort into stealing it; he had no intention of losing it. Ever.

And it wasn't as though Emma had much of a hand to play now. She might have held all the cards in their previous alliance, but he was the one with the ability to sail the ship and navigate through the portal, and if he refused to help her, she would have no way to get home.

And she knew it.

He could see that this simple fact – that she had to rely on him for something, that she had to trust him to help her because she couldn't do everything herself – was irritating her far more than she wanted to let on.

It amused him.

Of course, he didn't particularly like having to rely on them, either. But he was willing to do it if it meant getting revenge for Milah. He would work with them, help them, trust them…

For now.

"I'm not reviewing this to annoy you," he said, softening his voice just a bit before adding with a smirk, "though I admit that _is_ an added benefit."

"Hook!"

He rolled his eyes at the outburst and continued, "But it is imperative that we do this right. I don't want to arrive injured, or worse, get killed along the way. That _would_ put us at a distinct disadvantage against our enemies."

Mary Margaret rested a hand on Emma's arm and murmured, "He's right." Emma gave her an incredulous look and she continued, "I want to get home just as badly as you do, Emma. But we can't be reckless."

"Henry is alone in Storybrooke. He has _no_ protection!" Emma protested angrily, spinning away from Hook to face Mary Margaret.

"He has…"

"Regina?" Emma scoffed. "For all we know, she hasn't actually been trying to help us." She shook her head, temper flaring at the fact that they had trusted the Evil Queen and she had possibly betrayed them, before adding, "And if she is content to leave us here…"

"She loves Henry," Mary Margaret countered quickly, breaking into Emma's angry tirade. "She might hate us, Emma, and yes... it does seem possible that she hasn't really been trying to help us, but she loves Henry. Don't you believe _that_?"

"Sometimes I don't believe she's capable of love at all," Emma ground out, but despite the bitterness in her voice, Hook could tell from the look in her eyes that her words were not the truth. She _did_ believe that the Evil Queen could love – and wasn't that a very strange thought?

"That's not true," Mary Margaret murmured. "We've been over this before. Regina might be willing to kill us, but she wouldn't deliberately hurt Henry."

"And what if she doesn't view Cora as a threat?" Emma countered pointedly.

Hook bit back a smirk at that question. Regina had sent him to kill her own mother – if that was not proof of her distrust of Cora, then what was?

He would have said that, too, but time and experience had taught him that sometimes it was better to quietly listen to an argument in the hopes that the others would be so wrapped up in their discussion that they would forget his presence and let something slip.

"Of course she will know that Cora is a threat," Mary Margaret retorted. "Cora _killed_ Daniel…"

"And Regina blamed _you_ for it," Emma countered, "_not_ her mother."

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to argue, but apparently had nothing to say in response to that. She was quiet, worry and determination waring for control of her features. Then she shook her head and resumed her stoic expression. "She loves Henry," she said again, but this time it was clear that she was mostly trying to convince herself of that statement.

After all, the entire town of Storybrooke was in danger and the only two people who had the power to stop Cora were both generally considered to be evil. Hook knew that Mary Margaret had to believe that Regina's love for Henry was strong enough to counter her mother's insidious influence, or else there would be no town left for them to return to.

Hook sighed inwardly. Good people were _so_ naïve.

Didn't they know that love was never enough?

He cleared his throat and interrupted the conversation then. "Shall we go over this again?" he suggested.

Emma glowered at him, but Mary Margaret nodded. "Yes," she said. To Emma, she added, "We need to make sure we get it right. There is too much at stake."

* * *

"Yes, my dear Snow, there is _far_ too much at stake."

Cora leaned forward and gazed into the mirror thoughtfully. The image splayed across the smooth surface was concerning. She hadn't wanted Snow to make it to this land at all, but some part of her had accepted the fact that the meddlesome monarch would not give up until she had found a way back to her beloved family. Stopping her completely might not be an option.

In which case, she did not want Snow to make it to Storybrooke _yet_.

She needed time.

She touched the edge of the mirror with the tip of one finger and watched as the glass began to ripple. A small smile curved the corners of her lips.

"You pushed me through a looking glass, my daughter," she murmured, triumph edging into her voice, "and trapped me in a foreign land. And just look what I learned to do."

For some reason, it was Regina who seemed to be the most frequently associated with mirrors. No doubt the genie had something to do with that. But although Regina had been adequately trained in the complexities of mirrors, and although she had an enchanted mirror to do her bidding, she had never mastered – never even _understood_ – the full potential of these delightfully useful devices.

No, that was something Cora had learned. Mirrors were _her_ domain.

The image in the mirror rippled along the edges, and then the sky above the ocean began to darken.

Traveling through a mirror was difficult, and usually ended in the mirror being destroyed. And once the mirror was destroyed, it was even more difficult – and often impossible – to travel back.

But manipulation… that was something else entirely.

Cora couldn't very well send anything _through_ the mirror. But so long as it didn't require passing anything through the glass, she could easily control events on the other side of the mirror.

For instance, she could gather up all the wind that should have rushed through the sky on any given day, pull it together, hold it tightly…

And then release it all at once.

* * *

The storm hit without warning.

The force of the waves smashing against the side of the ship sent Mary Margaret stumbling to her knees, and Emma only barely managed to stay upright by grabbing onto the nearest beam and clinging tightly. The sky darkened, clouds appeared as though by magic, and the wind howled.

_What the hell…?_

Even not knowing much of anything about magic, Emma knew this was _not_ a normal storm.

"Emma!"

Emma twisted at the sound of her name and saw Mary Margaret slide across the deck as the entire ship rocked back and forth, coming dangerously close to capsizing. She scrambled towards her mother, momentarily letting go of her grip on the ship's bean, and realized too late what a mistake that was. The wood was slick from the waves that had crashed over the side of the ship, and she slipped and careened haphazardly towards the opposite railing and the raging sea.

She fingers scrambled for purchase against the deck, but found none, and she ended up plowing into Mary Margaret and sending them both tumbling.

She felt Mary Margaret's fingers wrap tightly around her wrist, and even in the storm, even with the threat of danger crashing over them from all sides, it was clear that her mother's biggest concern was that the two of them would be separated. She could her mother's words from their disagreement at the base of the beanstalk echoing in her head.

_We go back together. That is the only way. Do you understand?_

Emma pulled herself and Mary Margaret to a crouch and squinted through the dark for a sign of Hook. But she couldn't make out anything with the saltwater sloshing over the side of the ship and stinging her eyes. Her main concern was herself and her mother, and she could only hope that the pirate captain was somehow keeping himself safe.

After all, they needed him to get home.

She heard the sound of something ripping above her, and looked up in time to see the mainsail tear free from its bindings and flutter in the howling wind. Another gust tore the sail completely loose, and it floated in midair for a moment, twisting and turning in all sorts of odd shapes as the wind knocked it about.

Then it fell towards them.

Mary Margaret dragged Emma backwards, and as the sail came tumbling down towards them, Emma caught sight of Hook staggering across the deck.

Then the ship lurched sideways once more, and before Emma realized what was happening, she and Mary Margaret had been pitched over the railing and were falling towards the raging ocean below.


	13. Lost Boys

Chapter Thirteen: Lost Boys

_The first time he'd sailed through the portal on the _Jolly Roger_, Peter Pan had come with him, and had never once left his side._

Water sloshed over the side of the ship and drenched Hook. His eyes stung in response to the salt, but he ignored the pain as best he could and focused instead of the ship and the storm and the looming portal.

His head hurt. He'd fallen and hit it on something, but he couldn't remember what. His thoughts were fuzzy, blurry. Random thoughts, memories, kept creeping into his consciousness, playing out scenes in front of his eyes.

He needed to focus, needed to…

_It took three months, and even if they were all poor excuses for sailors, Jones couldn't help but feel proud of his work. They were not as good as his previous crew, but they were good enough._

_Good enough to sail through a portal. Good enough to leave Neverland. Good enough…_

_But loyal. Too loyal. He needed a crew to steal the ship, and yet none of these men would turn on Peter Pan._

_Well, he knew something about their dear chieftain that they didn't._

"Emma!"

He heard the shout and turned his head in time to see the blonde lose her footing and go careening across the deck. She slammed into Mary Margaret and the two of them ended in a jumbled heap, arms and legs twisted together.

He saw Mary Margaret grab Emma's wrist.

Milah had done that, during her first storm, when she had feared the powerful waves might capsize the ship and separate them. He knew what the motion meant, knew the promises it conveyed. But loving Milah had taught him that all the promises in the world, in _any_ world, could not guarantee a happy ending.

The portal pulled them nearer.

_Peter threw something into the ocean and opened the portal. The others hadn't questioned that Peter could do this, could open a portal between realms. As far as they were concerned, the boy chief could do absolutely anything._

The sound of cloth tearing drew Hook's attention upwards in time to see the mainsail start to rip. He stumbled forward, trying to think, trying to clear his head, trying to remember what he was supposed to do now…

But his head _hurt_.

He struggled towards the steps leading to the tiller. The ship rocked, and he slipped, his feet sliding on the wet wood. He threw his hands out to break his fall, but his head collided with the corner of the steps, and the blackness began to encroach on his vision.

_It took time, but Jones finally convinced Starkey to tell him the tale of how he'd met Peter Pan._

"_There were several of us," Starkey said quietly. "But we didn't trust each other. All of us had come to this land separately and by accident, and we didn't know if the other was friend or foe. I don't know how long it was before the chief got here – time just sort of blends together. But we spent a lot of time fighting each other and fighting the natives and some died and we were always…" He paused, and shook his head. "It's not easy, being like that. Never feeling safe, never being able to let down your guard… It takes a toll."_

_It was the most Jones had ever heard Starkey say all at once. In fact, the entire conversation was proving to be unusual because Starkey was actually answering questions with more than just a single word and a shrug of his shoulders._

_But Jones didn't comment on Starkey's explanation. He was a pirate, after all, and he'd learned a long time ago the dangers of putting trust in anyone. Maybe the constant suspicion did take its toll on him, but it also kept him alive and free._

"_Then the chief came. He was escaping a war. He was just a lad then - looked the same as he does now, of course, but younger. Sixteen, I think. And he saw that we were tired and so he convinced us that we needed to join together."_

"_He convinced you? How?"_

_Starkey stared at him for a long moment, then said, "We were torn away from our homes and our families, but he gave us a place to belong."_

_"Once you can sail through the portal, will you return to your home?" Jones asked.  
_

"_I've been gone too long," Starkey answered. "There's nothing there for me to return to. And Peter if my chief now. This is my home."_

_Jones nodded, but some part of him doubted that Starkey actually believed that. He was loyal to Peter Pan, but…_

"_What war?" Jones asked abruptly. Starkey gave him a bewildered look, and he elaborated, "You said that Peter Pan had escaped a war. Which one?"_

"_The ogre war," Starkey replied._

He was aware of sudden pain lancing through his arm and saw the blood and splinters. He struggled to make sense of it. He'd been injured and the ship was heaving underneath him and…

What had happened?

The storm.

The memory rushed back to him of the sudden gust of wind and…

Damn it, why wouldn't his head stop hurting? Why couldn't he think straight? Why did he have to keep getting distracted by…

_The first time he'd sailed through the portal on the _Jolly Roger_, Peter Pan had come with him, and had never once left his side._

"_Don't you trust me?" Jones had asked._

He squinted through the night, peering for a sign of Mary Margaret or Emma. He couldn't see them, but the mainsail had torn completely free from the mast, and was now lying in a tangled heap on the deck, obstructing his view of the rest of the ship.

He stumbled forward, his steps uneven.

He needed to find them.

No. He needed to protect the ship.

The portal was a giant whirlpool pulling the ship forward. It groaned and creaked and rocked on the dangerously tall waves, and every passing second brought him closer to the other land.

Storybrooke.

"_I fought in th' war," Bill Jukes said once as he struggled to learn how to sail the ship. "Didn' have no choice. All them poor folks was recruited."_

"_Recruited?" Jones asked._

"_The family's got threatened. If we didn' fight, us and our whole family went to the dungeon."_

_Jones didn't say anything else. He didn't really want to tell Jukes that now, instead of sending those living in poverty to the front lines, the nobles fighting these battles sent children._

The ship. The _portal_.

"Damn you, Cora," Hook growled as he pulled himself to his hands and knees and crawled along the steps. One way or another, he knew that this was her fault.

But it didn't matter. None of it mattered because he would not _ever_ give up his revenge. He'd spent centuries imaging all the ways he could make the Dark One pay for taking his true love, and nothing – not even a powerful witch – was going to stop him.

The ship pitched forward and he nearly fell flat on his face.

The tiller. He had to get to the tiller.

But the memories would not stop.

_Jones decided very early on that he hated the fairies in Neverland._

_He had never met a fairy back in his own world, but he had heard enough about them to expect them to be wise and caring and paragons of Good._

_The fairy flickering around in front of him was nothing but an annoying adolescent with far too much energy._

_She was also one of the few fairies who was friendly with Peter Pan._

"_You're Killian Jones," the fairy announced cheerfully. "You're one of Peter's new friends. You've been here two months. Peter wants you to train his other friends so that they can sail a ship."_

"_Yes," Jones replied. "I've seen you talking to the chief before. What's your name?"_

"_Bell. Tinker. Tinker Bell." The fairy paused for a moment, hovering in midair, and then added, "Peter calls me Tink."_

_And she flushed furiously._

_A childish fairy with a crush. How… perfect._

"_I'm worried about the chief," Jones said, keeping his tone soft and gentle. "I think he's upset about something."_

"_Oh no!" Tinker Bell cried immediately. She darted away from Jones, clearly intent on finding Peter and comforting him, but the pirate called her back._

"_Wait, please." The fairy paused and looked at Jones quizzically. "I don't think confronting him about it directly is a good idea," Jones said carefully. "He'll pretend that he's fine. He won't want to burden us with his problems. But maybe if we talk about it, we can figure out what is wrong and how to fix it."_

"_I don't know," Tinker Bell said cautiously, clearly torn. "Peter doesn't trust you."_

_Jones bit back a smile and the desire to point out all the reasons he _wasn't_ trustworthy. "I know," he said, "and I wish he would. I'm his friend, and I wish he could see that. But maybe… maybe if you help me… maybe I can convince him that he can trust me. And wouldn't that be good for Peter? Having more friends, more people he can trust." He smiled, and added a little bit of flattery, "Besides you, of course. I know he trusts you most of all. That's why I came to you for help."_

_That seemed to do the trick. Tinker Bell nodded. "What do you need to know?" she asked eagerly._

He reached the tiller and grabbed on tightly. He could do this. Even half-conscious and with blood pooling in the wet fabric of his clothing, he could do this.

He just had to _focus_.

He closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts, and then looked towards the portal.

And over the edge of the railing, he saw Mary Margaret tangled in the ropes hanging off the side of the ship, half-submerged in the uncontrollable waves.

He couldn't worry about her right now. She was on her own. He had to focus on the portal.

_The first time he'd sailed through the portal on the _Jolly Roger_, Peter Pan had come with him, and had never once left his side._

"_Don't you trust me?" Jones had asked._

"_Should I?" Peter had replied._

The wind had started to abate slightly, though the waves still rocked the boat. But the portal loomed directly in front of him, and there was no escaping it now. He was headed for another land whether he was ready or not.

Bloody and befuddled and with a broken ship. He was a reckless fool to be doing this, to be attempting the navigation.

But he had no other choice.

"_Why can't you just jump into a portal and travel between the worlds?" Jones had asked once._

"_You can't control a portal," Peter had explained. "To make it to a specific land requires a guide of some kind – a compass. Otherwise you could end up anywhere." And he had paused and given Jones a searching, suspicious, look, before adding slowly, "But with a ship, you can navigate to specific worlds. It's just like sailing. If your captain is good enough." _

"I _am_ good enough," Hook muttered into the air.

He brushed saltwater out of his eyes and flicked away the droplets that were forming on his hair. The pain in his arm lessened slightly as he gripped the tiller and stared into the portal before him.

"_Anyone brought to Neverland does not age," Peter had explained.  
_

_Jones noted that Peter did not refer to people discovering Neverland, falling into Neverland, ending up in Neverland. No... people were _brought_ here._

The ship paused for a moment on the very edge of the portal and then pitched forward completely and fell into the abyss.

"Rumpelstiltskin," Hook murmured as he clutched the tiller tightly, "I am coming for you."

* * *

It was the ages and arrival dates of Peter's band of followers that finally allowed all the pieces to fall into place. Most of the adults had claimed to have been in Neverland since before Peter Pan had arrived; all of the children had come afterwards.

But nothing was quite what it seemed, and the delightfully gullible Tinker Bell had provided some much needed explanations.

And then had come the planning.

It had taken Jones another month after the first successful voyage of the _Jolly Roger_ to finalize his plans. Everything had to be exactly right. The right people in the right place at the right time.

But he was patient. He could wait. After all, here in Neverland, he wasn't getting any older.

And then came the opportunity.

Jones, Starkey, Jukes, and Teynte took the _Jolly Roger_ out onto the ocean to practice. The first ride through the portal had been bumpy, and it had taken all of Jones' skill to keep the ship afloat. He had insisted to Peter that they needed more work, and had selected the three adults he claimed were the most adept at sailing, adults he wanted to give extra training to so that they could take on more responsibilities.

Starkey, Jukes, and Teynte – they also happened to be the three Jones thought he could most easily turn to his cause.

Peter had agreed, but had insisted on coming along as well, presumably believing that his presence would keep Jones in line and remind the others that they were loyal to him.

Jones smirked at the thought, and slid his hand into the pocket of his shirt where his fingers grazed over the purloined magic bean.

He was _so_ close.

"Did you know," he commented as he moved about the ship, "that the ogre war has been fought for nearly a century?"

Peter gave him a startled, distrustful stare, but Jukes said morosely, "Why you wanna talk about it? Ruined enough lives, didn' it?"

Jones nodded slowly. "I suppose it did." He glanced at Peter and asked with a mock innocent expression, "So that would make you a hundred, wouldn't it?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Starkey freeze with his hands on the shroud.

Peter raised both eyebrows and said, "Not that it is any of your business, but the ogre war had been going on for a while before I found my way here."

"Really? Because that's not the way darling little Tink tells the story," Jones sneered.

"You talked to Tink?" Peter demanded, tensing. "Did you hurt her?" And Jones was surprised to see real concern in Peter's gaze. Apparently the boy chief didn't find the fairy to be quite as much of a nuisance as Jones would have believed.

"I had no cause to hurt her," Jones said dismissively. "She was willing to tell me everything I wanted to know."

"Why does it matter when the chief came to Neverland?" Teynte asked. "We've all been here a long time."

"And you never once wondered why that was?" Jones pressed, taking a step towards Peter. "You never once questioned _why_ you had come to this place? Portals don't just _open_, you know. Someone has to open them. Someone has to bring you here."

"Maybe, but it wasn't the chief," Teynte said stoutly, loyally. "He didn't get here until later."

"Are you sure about that?" Jones said.

The boy chief's hand moved slowly towards the quiver of arrows at his shoulder, but he did not draw one. He couldn't very well shoot Jones right now, or it would be tantamount to admitting that Jones was right about the story he was going to tell. But he also couldn't let Jones continue talking.

"Stop it," Peter said grimly as he lowered his arm.

"Why? Don't you think they deserve to know what brought them to Neverland? Don't you think they deserve to know what you've done?"

"They know what I've done," Peter snapped back. "I've taken care of them, I've made this place a home for all of us."

"Oh, you've certainly made it a home," Jones shot back. "But only because nobody can go anywhere else."

Peter shook his head, a look of bored amusement gracing his features as though he couldn't be bothered to contradict Jones' obvious lies. He turned away from the others and looked out at the ocean for a moment, as though contemplating Neverland. Then he drawled, "What is this? Some pathetic attempt to turn my friends against me?"

Instead of replying, Jones turned to Starkey and said, "I liked you from the first time we met. There was something about you that seemed just a little… suspicious. It took me a while to figure out what it was, but then I realized… It's that you wondered about Peter Pan. The rest of the lot were willing to accept him as their savior, but you doubted. Even if it was brief, even if you could never put it into words…"

"No," Starkey said, shaking his head and looking between the boy chief and the pirate, "you're wrong."

Jones gritted his teeth. He needed Starkey on his side. He knew he needed to turn at least one of the three men on the ship, and Starkey had seemed the most obvious choice. He hadn't anticipated that Starkey would refuse to play along.

But Jones also knew he wasn't wrong about this, about Starkey. He had seen the way Starkey looked at Peter when no one else was watching, had seen the questioning in his gaze.

And then, to everyone's great surprise, Jukes asked, "How come you got so friendly with the fairies? How come them natives don't like you?"

Peter spun around and stared at Jukes as though he had grown an extra head. "_What_?"

"You said you got here after us," Jukes said firmly, "but then you got friendly with the fairies – Tinker Bell, anyway – real quick. And them natives didn' like you from the beginnin', from when they firs' met you. Almost like you'd known 'em longer. Like you'd _been_ here longer."

Peter shook his head. "I met Tinker Bell when I first got here," he said, "and we became friends immediately, so it might have seemed like I had known her longer, but I really hadn't. And you know that the mermaids are fickle, and will decide that they love or hate you without even knowing you. And the natives only hated me because I was trying to help all of you."

Jukes frowned, but said nothing.

"Come on," Peter said reasonably, "who are you going to trust? Me or him?" And he jerked his head towards Jones with a sneer twisting his lips.

"You've been here a long time, Peter Pan," Jones cut in, not wanting to give the other three men a chance to contemplate that question. "The truth is, you fought near the beginning of the ogre wars, nearly a hundred years ago." He paused, then said, "But something happened. Something involving a girl named Wendy."

Whatever Jones had expected in response, it was not to have Peter's fist collide with his face.

He stumbled backwards, surprised.

There was something dark and dangerous in Peter's eyes as the boy chief said in a voice of barely constrained rage, "Shut your mouth about her." His entire body was shaking with pent up emotion, and his hands were clenched into fists at his side.

Peter took a deep breath and looked away again.

Jones rubbed his jaw and decided to tread carefully. He licked his lips, then said, "You ran. You got away from the ogre wars somehow, got your hands on a magical bean, and jumped through a portal. You were trying to escape, weren't you? But if brought you to a place where you were alone, where you had no one."

"That's a fascinating story, pirate," Peter said, "but can we get back to the training?" And he gestured towards the rest of the ship.

Jukes was still frowning, but Teynte had already moved away from the confrontation.

This wasn't going the way Jones had planned.

Jones turned towards the others, frantic to prevent his plans from falling apart. "Jukes, you said you fought in the ogre war. How did you come to Neverland?"

Jukes blinked. "I got a break for a bit when m' Dad died. But then I got sent back to front lines, and they say if I didn' report, they'd send m' wife to the dungeon. I went through a portal night before I was suppos' t' leave."

"Portals don't just open," Jones said. "But I learned an interesting fact from Peter's precious little Tink. It turns out that while it is impossible to navigate _yourself_ through a portal without a compass or a ship, it is possible to open portals and pull other people _to you_."

Jukes blinked, and slowly the implications of Jones' statement dawned on him. "Why would th' chief do that?" he asked.

"Because he was lonely. He wanted friends – followers. He brought people into a hostile land they'd never been to before, left them alone to fight each other and everyone else here, and then swooped in to save the day and declare himself their leader."

"Lies," Peter said angrily.

"But why me?" Jukes persisted, now directing his questions solely to Jones.

"Because Peter doesn't like the ogre wars," Jones said simply.

"So you're saying that by bringing him here I actually rescued him from a horrible fate?" Peter questioned, a hint of humor in his voice. "I saved him from being sent to certain and painful death fighting a war that only the nobles cared about?" He quirked an eyebrow, those unsettling eyes fixed on Jones. "Even if that were true… it still makes it sound as though I was trying to _help_."

"The ogre wars is horrible," Jukes agreed.

"Yes, and if you had wanted to run away, you could have," Jones replied. "But you didn't." He tilted his head to the side, regarding Jukes. "And why not?"

"M' wife."

"Right," Jones agreed. "You were trying to protect your wife. But the nobles running that little war don't know that you fell through a portal. They probably believe that you simply ran away." He paused, waiting for the realization to sink in, then pressed on, "So where do you think your wife is now?"

He knew he shouldn't take such glee in the suffering of Jukes' wife, but it was hard not to given how brilliantly it would prove his point.

Jukes remained glumly silent.

"I didn't fight in the ogre wars," Starkey said suspiciously, "and neither did Teynte. Why did the chief bring us here?"

"I didn't," Peter said calmly, "and I didn't bring Jukes here, either."

"Was anything bad about to happen to you?" Jones asked. "Anything unfair? Any injustice committed by uncaring and arrogant nobility?"

Starkey didn't answer, but it was clear from his silence and the pursing of his lips that, had he spoken, the answer would have been affirmative.

Jones turned back to Peter and took a step closer to the boy. "See, that's the interesting thing, isn't it? That is how you convince yourself that what you are doing is right. You're saving people from the injustice of a monarchy and a nobility that doesn't care about peasants, that is happy to sacrifice the lives of others for their own gain."

"There is nothing wrong with helping people," Peter said quietly, and Jones realized abruptly that Peter actually _believed_ that.

"But you don't care about them," Jones argued pointedly. "The people you've brought here – some of them have died, and yet you seem more than happy to replace them as soon as they are gone. Their lives don't matter to you at all." He glanced at Jukes and added, "Just like the life of Jukes' wife didn't matter."

"Oh, and you do value life, _pirate_?" Peter sneered. "How many people have you killed for their money or their goods? How many people have you pushed around, how many people have you trampled, just to get what _you_ want?"

Jones ignored that, and, turning back to Starkey, pressed on, "And the others? How many of them came here right before some injustice? I'm going to guess all of the adults. And how about all those boys the chief brought here – those _children_. The ones separated from their homes, the ones who look so lost, who still don't quite understand why they are here..." He turned to Peter and accused, The ones you _still_ have not offered to return to their families now that you can sail between worlds… I find them interesting."

"Do you?" Peter asked sharply.

"Fighting in the ogre wars is mandatory now," Jones replied. "They've dealt with the massive casualties by demanding that every peasant child be sent to the front lines as soon as they reach the age of fourteen." He smiled chillingly, then turned to Jukes, Starkey, and Teynte, and added, "And do you know what I find quite fascinating? That every single one of those lost boys in Peter's little band... everyone is just a few weeks shy of fourteen.

There was a moment of complete silence.

Then Jones added to Peter, "Oh, by the way, you did it wrong. You only _rescued_ boys, but they're sending boys _and_ girls to the front lines now."

Peter's lips flattened into a thin line.

"But you got tired of bringing people here," Jones said. "You wanted to get out, wanted to see other worlds, wanted to lead your band of followers to other lands. And to do that, you needed someone foolish enough to sail a ship through the dangers of a portal. So you brought _me_."

He turned to the other three men, as though to rest his case.

Jones had misjudged Teynte – the man refused to budge in his loyalty. He stepped over to Peter's side and said, "I'd still rather be here than back in my world. Maybe the chief did bring me here. Maybe he did lie. But he rescued me, and _that_ is what matters."

But Jones had not misjudged Starkey or Jukes.

"How dare you?" Starkey growled at Peter, finally breaking. "What gave you the right?"

"They were going to send you off to work in some prison camp!" Peter shouted back, finally deciding to drop all pretenses and defend his actions. "And why? Because the noble whose land your family worked decided you hadn't worked _hard enough_? He blamed you for the lost crop, for the drought that you had no control over. I _saved_ you."

"But you left my father and mother behind," Starkey argued.

"Falling through a portal is dangerous," Peter replied. "Your father and mother were _old_. Bringing them here would have killed them. I couldn't save them, Starkey, but I could save you, so I _did_."

"Then why did you wait to identify yourself? Why did you lie and say you came afterwards?"

"Because I never planned to come forward," Peter replied. He glanced at Jones derisively and elaborated, "Whatever the pirate claims, I didn't bring you here to create a band of followers for myself. I was only trying to save you, to offer you the chance to escape and start over. The same chance someone had given me." He paused, ran a hand through his hair, and for a moment looked like an adolescent boy, bewildered and tired, "But then you all were fighting and people were getting hurt – dying. I knew I had to step in, knew I had to try to protect you. But by then I had remained hidden for so long, and I didn't know… I didn't know how to tell any of you that I had been here all along. So I lied, because it was easier, simpler. Maybe that makes me a coward, but I was always only trying to _help_."

"But why didn't you want to come forward in the beginning?" Starkey pressed.

Peter's eyes hardened. "I didn't really like people then," he said flatly. "I was willing to help you all because I believe in helping strangers. If a stranger hadn't helped me, I wouldn't have escaped myself and I had to repay that somehow…" He trailed off for a moment, then said bitterly, "But at the time, I truly thought that people only cause trouble. Wendy... I gave Wendy _everything_, but she couldn't do the same for me. I loved her and she broke her promises. After that, the last thing I wanted was to be around _more_ people who could betray me."

The information about Wendy was interesting, but not really relevant to Jones' plans. The pirate stepped closer to Peter. "So you decided that you – a boy of sixteen – knew what was best for everyone else?"

"Haven't you been listening to him?" Teynte growled. "Haven't you heard a word he said?"

"Yes," Jones said. "Have _you_?"

And without warning, he swung his arm out and knocked Peter over the side of the ship and into the ocean.

Teynte lunged forward, but Jukes quickly pulled him away from Jones. The two engaged in a brief scuffle, and then Jukes shoved Teynte overboard as well.

Jones leaned over the side of the ship, searching the ocean for any sign of the boy chief. Peter had disappeared underneath the water for a moment, but he reappeared quickly several feet from the ship.

"Don't be a fool Jones," he called. "You can't go anywhere without me."

Jones reached into his pocket and pulled out the magical bean. He held it out for Peter to see, and smiled as the boy chief's expression flooded with horror.

"I don't know how you got these, but I suppose it doesn't really matter," Jones said. "I'm going home, Peter Pan, and just in case you've got plans to bring me back… Tinker Bell was so helpful in telling me where you kept all your magic beans, and I destroyed the others. So you're going to be stuck here, in Neverland… forever."

Peter sputter for a moment, treading water and unable to think of anything to say. Then he scowled and shouted, "One day you're going to push around the wrong person, pirate, and that person is going to push back."

Jones ignored the warning and turned to face Starkey and Jukes. Nodding to the ocean, he asked "Are you with me or with them?"

Starkey looked at the magic bean in Jones' hand. "You," he said, and Jukes echoed his agreement.

"Good," Jones said. "Starkey, man the rigging. Jukes, make sure Peter and Teynte don't try to climb back aboard – hit them with an oar if you have to." He turned towards the bow of the ship. "Time to go home."

* * *

The first time he'd sailed through the portal on the _Jolly Roger_, Peter Pan had come with him, and had never once left his side.

"Don't you trust me?" Jones had asked.

"Should I?" Peter had replied.

"No," Jones had answered, but he had known Peter was too arrogant to believe he could be beaten.

* * *

The ropes twisted around her calf and ankle.

Mary Margaret frantically clawed at the side of the ship, but it was too smooth and too wet to offer her any purchase. She was half-submerged under the water, and sinking even more with every passing second as the ropes around her leg pulled her downwards.

Saltwater spray stung her eyes as she squinted through the storm in search of Emma.

The blonde had been thrown further from the ship. It took a moment, and then Mary Margaret saw Emma several feet away from her, struggling to keep her head above the crashing waves.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret cried out, but her shout was swallowed up by the sounds of the storm.

The ship pitched forward, and Mary Margaret was slammed back against the hull. Her head hit the wood and for a moment she thought she saw stars. Then she twisted and looked towards the bow, and saw, only a few feet away, the whirlpool portal opened beneath them, dragging them to Storybrooke.

Treading water with one arm, she reached down with the other and pulled at the ropes around her leg, trying to untangle them. But she couldn't keep herself afloat and fight the rope at the same time, and a moment later she was sinking underneath the waves.

Panic filled her.

She kicked wildly, pushing her way to the surface.

She haphazardly wiped water out of her eyes and looked for Emma again. The blonde was no closer to the ship – it was clear that all her efforts were doing little against the power of the storm-rocked waves. They buffeted her about, and for a moment, her head sank beneath the waves.

"_Emma_!" Mary Margaret screamed.

She kicked her feet against the hull of the ship, straining towards her submerged daughter.

_We go back together. That is the only way. Do you understand?_

Emma resurfaced a moment later and resumed fighting her way through the raging sea, powerful strokes bringing her closer to Mary Margaret.

Then the ship hit the edge of the portal.

The ropes went taunt, and forcefully pulled Mary Margaret away from Emma.

She tried to scream, but saltwater filled her mouth and stung her eyes as the ropes around her ankle pulled her under the waves. She began to pry at them in frantic, half-mad gestures, but her fingers merely scraped against the twisted fibers. Then the ship lurched into the portal, and magic hummed around her as she fell through water and air.

The portal closed over her head and she was flung towards Storybrooke, leaving Emma behind.

* * *

A/N: The next chapter will finally take us back to Storybrooke, though, of course, we will continue to visit FTL to see Emma.


	14. An Issue of Trust

Chapter Fourteen: An Issue Of Trust

He went by the name Christian Stevens here.

Regina supposed that was as good a name as any, though it did feel a bit strange rolling off her tongue. But she had not seen the man in years, and calling him anything other than Uncle would probably have sounded odd to her.

Talking to him at all was odd.

She looked around the living room. It was a small room in a small house that was easily overlooked. The house itself was tucked back behind two large oak trees that blocked the view of the street. The yard was well kept, but plain, and the inside of the house was clean and cared-for, but nondescript.

It was the home of someone who did not want to be noticed, and she had just intruded on Christian's anonymity.

He did not invite her to sit.

She did not ask.

"When was the last time you saw my mother?" Regina questioned, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind one ear and studying him carefully, wondering if he would lie. But he would only lie if he actually had something to hide, and did he?

Christian considered her for a moment, his eyes meeting her steady gaze without flinching, and then he said, "A few days before your wedding. She came to _gloat_."

Her wedding to Leopold had been a triumph for her mother, for Leopold, for Snow... for everyone except Regina.

And Daniel.

But Cora's triumph had not lasted long, and she had never truly gained what she had wanted from Regina. All her bitter hatred of royalty, of Snow's mother, of her own husband's parents, of Leopold himself... what had that actually gotten her beyond banishment to another realm and a daughter who had tried to kill her? Cora had planned for so much more, and it was clear enough to Regina that now her mother was going to make good on all those plans.

Regina sighed, then pursed her lips and looked away, not wanting to dwell on those memories.

Christian said softly, "Before that visit, I don't believe I had seen her in years. After everything that had happened - after what she did to my father... I don't know why, but she never came to see me. I would have expected it of her. I would have thought she'd want to rub it in my face, want to point out all the ways I had failed..." He stopped, shaking his head and abruptly cutting off the words as a look of pain flickered across his features.

Regina was not the only one who didn't want to think about the past.

Regina sighed, frustrated, but she had expected as much. She had not come here believing that Christian had much of anything to offer her, but he was the only person in this town who would not dismiss her warnings about her mother, and she needed that. She needed someone who _understood_. Even if he could not help her win the upcoming confrontation, she at least wanted someone who wouldn't second guess her on this.

"And the last time you did talk to her… did she say anything that might be helpful for me to know?" Regina asked.

"Helpful?" Christian repeated, and Regina had the feeling he would have laughed outright at her if he'd had the nerve. "Were you hoping that she told me all about her future plans? And how would she have done that? She did not have the gift of foresight, Regina. I doubt she had any idea what you were going to do – to her or to the rest of us."

Regina gritted her teeth. She did not need to defend her actions to him.

They were both silent for a moment, then Christian sighed and said, "I assume she has something to do with the current unrest in this town?"

Regina inclined her head. "It seems likely, but I doubt anyone realizes it."

"I suppose," Christian agreed bitterly, dark eyes fixed on Regina. Then he asked, "But have you actually told anyone that she is here?"

"A few know," Regina said sharply, "but what does it matter if I tell them or not? No one will care. Those fools will underestimate her…" She trailed off and murmured quietly, more to herself than to Christian, "just like everyone always did."

Regina closed her eyes for a moment. If she was truly going to call the others fools, she reflected harshly, she would have to apply that term to herself as well. She'd underestimated her mother once before, and it had cost Daniel his life.

But now it was Henry's life on the line, and she would not make the same mistake twice.

"Perhaps," Christian said, "but I would not be so quick to dismiss the inhabitants of this town if I were you." Scorn trickled into his voice as he added pointedly, "Or do I need to remind you, _your Majesty_, that _you've_ underestimated _them_ before, too?"

Regina scowled. She did not want a reminder of her loss to Snow White.

Christian turned his back on her and stared out the window that overlooked the front yard. The sun had just begun to rise, and rays of light pierced the branches of the trees and scattered shadows across the lawn.

They were silent for a long moment.

"What do you want from me?" Christian asked finally.

Regina didn't answer. What she truly wanted was to be able to speak about her mother and know that the person listening would actually understand. But how could she admit that her motives for this visit were so weak, that all she wanted was for a few seconds to have someone agree with her? She had two enemies to rescue from another land, a comatose prince and a reckless son to protect, a powerful witch to deal with, and an entire town that wanted her dead. She didn't have time to waste seeking conversations that were meant to make her feel better.

And whether or not they were family, she couldn't trust him. She truly doubted he would help Cora with anything - not after what Cora had done to him - but that did not mean that he would be on her side, either. She had more enemies to worry about than just her mother, and she could not afford to show weakness to anyone she could not trust completely.

Which raised the question - who could she trust?

She let out a slow breath. She had spent two days trying to come up with a plan for dealing with her mother, and she had absolutely nothing.

"I was hoping that you…" She stopped, shook her head, started again, "You know my mother well. I was hoping you might know of a weakness of hers."

"A _weakness_?" the man scoffed. "Your mother doesn't _have_ a weakness. She cares for no one. She loves nothing." He turned away from the window and eyed Regina thoughtfully. "Rest assured, she wants power. Complete, total, indestructible power. And she wants _you_. But your mother will delight in destroying this town simply so that she can watch it burn."

Regina pressed her lips into a thin line. "Don't talk to me as though I know nothing about my mother," she snapped.

"You _don't_ know anything about your mother – you never did," he shot back, shaking his head at her as though she were still a child. "You love her because you still cling to this ridiculous notion that there is good in her, that there is some part of her that might love you in return. There _isn't_. Your mother is heartless in every sense of the word."

"My mother is not a soulless monster," Regina said coolly, wondering how this conversation had turned so that she was now defending the woman who was currently causing her so much trouble.

Christian actually dared to roll his eyes at her.

Annoyed, she said coolly, "She has a plan. She always has a plan. She doesn't just destroy things for fun."

"Doesn't she?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

Regina felt her power thrumming in her veins. It would be so very easy to incinerate the man before her.

It would be wrong, of course. She couldn't kill him. She had to do better, _be_ better.

She'd promised Henry.

"You say the rest of the town will underestimate Cora, and you are right about that," Christian pressed, "but I think you might be underestimating her as well."

* * *

As she walked towards her car, still seething at the complete uselessness of the conversation with Christian, she glanced up and down the street idly, scanning for threats. It was an automatic action, something she had adopted during her reign in the Enchanted Forest, and though she had given it up for the last twenty-nine years, now that the curse was broken, she had to be cautious again.

She slid into the driver's seat of her car and pulled out onto the street, still thinking.

She had not fail to notice the cold stares she received every time she passed someone on the street, nor was she unaware of the undercurrent of vengeance that seemed to have taken hold of the town. It was new, different – after the curse had broken, most people had skirted away from her, afraid of her magic, of her power. But these past few days they had openly glared at her, and she knew there were threats in their stares.

And there was something else. Tension and greed. She could feel those in the air as well as the makeup of the town shifted around her. Whatever little order David had maintained since the curse had broken was rapidly weakening, and chaos would soon reign.

How much of this was her mother's doing? And how much of it was simply inevitable given that she had forced several different kingdoms with very different cultures, laws, and histories into a single town?

The drive home took her by the town hall, and that was when she saw them. Two men guarding the entrance to the building, and though she did not recognize them she knew from the crests they had crudely sewn onto the backs of their coats that they belonged to Leah and Stefan.

She parked her car and got out.

They both caught sight of her at the same moment, an identical looks of apprehension flickered through their expressions before they pushed away their fear and stood taller, hands resting on the firearms at their waist.

She smiled disdainfully at them as she approached. "I didn't realize there was anything in town hall that needed such… stalwart… protection," she said, lips curling into a smirk.

"You are not allowed here," the first guard said.

She fixed him with an icy stare, but he refused to quail under her glare. He was brave, she supposed, and clearly loyal to his king and queen.

Of course, he was also incredibly foolish if he thought bravery was going to help him against her magic.

"By whose orders?" she asked, willing to play along for the moment. She would be civil enough - well, she would at least refrain from attacking them - and perhaps she could learn something useful.

"King Stefan," came the response.

"I didn't realize King Stefan was now the ruler of Storybrooke," Regina said, an eyebrow raised as she glanced between the two guards. "I must have missed that particular memo."

The guard drew his gun halfway from the holster.

Regina blinked, unimpressed.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" she asked in a dangerously quiet voice. "Do you really think you can draw your weapon before I use my magic on you?"

"We defeated you once, and we can do it again," the second guard snapped.

Regina chuckled lightly, amused by how quickly the people in this town were willing to co-opt history for their own purposes. But maybe that wasn't a trait unique to fairytale characters. Maybe everyone did it, maybe everyone rewrote history in their own minds to make themselves feel better.

"_You_ didn't defeat me," she replied pointedly. "In fact, your entire kingdom had _nothing_ to do with any of that."

The guard opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by another voice interrupting the conversation.

"Regina."

Regina glanced up at the red-haired woman stepping through the town hall doors and descending the steps towards her with a regal heir that very few monarchs actually managed.

"Leah," she mimicked.

Leah's eyes were hard, her gaze flat. She did not shy away from the magic she knew Regina possessed, nor did she cower behind her guards. She dismissed them with a wave of her hand, and they withdrew slowly, though not before muttering protests that she was needlessly putting herself at risk.

But Leah had never been one to back down from a fight, and sometimes that served her well. But sometimes it didn't.

Regina wondered which category this confrontation would fall into.

"What are you doing here?" Leah asked.

"It's a beautiful day," Regina replied glibly, allowing a smile to split her lips, revealing perfect white teeth. "I decided a stroll would be a pleasant way to spend the morning."

"It's _winter_ in _Maine_," Leah replied coolly, not returning the smile. "Don't insult my intelligence with such blatant lies."

"Am I interrupting something, dear?" Regina questioned, eyes darting past Leah to the building. "A war council, perhaps? Have you taken my town hall as headquarters for your plans to kill me?"

Leah swiped a few curls out of her eyes and did not reply, instead merely stared at Regina impassively.

Regina had not spoken to the other queen in years, and did not know her well now, but she did have to admire her stubborn courage.

"You know," Regina commented dryly, "we weren't enemies once."

Leah pursed her lips. "You cursed all of us, Regina," she replied sardonically. "You separated me from my daughter. I rather think that negates whatever tentative truce we had before."

"I suppose it does," Regina agreed readily enough, "but I still think it is worth remembering that, once upon a time, you had no qualms about leaving me in peace. I destroyed lives, I killed people… but as long as I wasn't friendly with Maleficent, it didn't matter you."

"You did not destroy lives or kill people in my kingdom," Leah answered. "I had a responsibility to protect my people, and as long as they were safe, Stefan and I saw no reason for open war." She frowned, and added needlessly, "Open war causes more harm than good."

"If you only care about your own people, then why are you so invested in the murder of Moe French?" Regina shot back. "Neither he nor Miss Lucas were part of your kingdom, so you have no responsibility to protect or condemn either of them."

"Things are different now," Leah answered calmly, although a hint of color suffused her features. "Your curse saw to that."

"Did it? Or is it just that you want power, and are willing to take it by any means possible?" Regina countered.

A brittle smile formed on Leah's lips. "Not all of us are as greedy for power as you are, Regina," she replied softly. "I am merely trying to create order in this town before it all falls apart."

"Keep telling yourself that, dear," Regina answered patronizingly, "and one day you might actually believe it." Leah bristled, but Regina pressed on, "I suppose in the mean time, though, that you will have to consign yourself to persecuting wolves."

Leah rested her hands on her hips. "And I suppose you are going to tell me that Ruby Lucas is innocent," she questioned, "and that it is actually your mother who is behind this."

Regina started, not expecting this turn in the conversation. "How…?"

"I spoke to Miss Lucas this morning and she tried to convince me that she had been framed by your mother," Leah said dismissively, as though the entire idea was ludicrous.

"And you don't believe her?" Regina questioned carefully, not particularly surprised that Ruby would try such a ridiculously desperate strategy… or that Leah would refuse to believe it. She did not know Cora - had never met her. Anyone with common sense would have ignored Ruby's arguments, assuming them to be nothing more than frantic attempts at diverting blame.

Cora was clearly counting on that.

"Do you really expect me to believe that your mother came through a portal into Storybrooke and decided the best use of her time was killing Maurice and framing the wolf?" Leah scoffed. "Has she ever actually _met_ either of them?"

"I doubt it was anything personal," Regina replied honestly, though her voice was laced with acerbic scorn. "My mother does not tend to care who she kills as long as she gets her way."

"Hmm… the apple truly does not fall far from the tree, does it?" Leah commented.

Regina looked away to collect her thoughts. She was not used to arguing with someone who could exchange quips so readily. Emma Swan had that ability, of course, but no one else in her life did, not even Ruby or the dwarves. And certainly not Mary Margaret or David.

"You should not underestimate her," Regina said after a moment, her tone serious. "My mother… Cora… she is dangerous."

"Don't tell me you are actually concerned about my wellbeing?" Leah mocked.

"Well, if anything were to happen to you, who would maintain order in this town?" Regina retorted in an equally sarcastic tone.

Leah's eyes narrowed. She was silent for a moment, then she said, "I expected something better. Something more… plausible. But instead you would have me believe that your mother – whom you apparently left behind when you cast the curse, although I have no idea how or why – snuck through a portal into Storybrooke with the express purpose of causing chaos and ruining all our lives?" She took a step forward. "How did this portal open?"

"She opened it," Regina drawled. "She does have magic, you know."

"I see… And you just happened to be standing there when she came through?" Leah asked disbelieving. "Quite the coincidence. Tell me, how did that family reunion go?"

"Gold and Miss Lucas were there as well," Regina said wearily, suddenly tired of the conversation.

"A murderous werewolf and the Dark One. That is quite an interesting choice of witnesses. They are so very… _trustworthy_," Leah said scathingly.

Regina shrugged. She would never be able to convince Leah that her mother was a threat and the most likely culprit behind Mr. French's death. Cora would slowly spread her poisonous influence throughout the town until she had destroyed all of it.

And at the moment, Regina was sorely tempted to just let her.

Leah turned to leave, then paused and glanced back over her shoulder. "Enjoy your freedom while you still have it, Regina. I assure you, it won't last long."

"Quite the brave speech from someone without magic," Regina countered.

Leah smiled coldly. "Who says I don't have magic on my side?" she asked, and Regina remembered the enchanted bars on the jail cell and the feeling of fairy magic there, and wondered.

Leah disappeared in town hall, and Regina remained on the sidewalk, thinking.

* * *

"Wait… so it's _true_?" Belle demanded in shock. "Everything Regina said is true?"

Gold frowned in response to the anger in her tone and replied with a hint of derision, "You should never believe a single word her Majesty says."

Belle took a step backwards. "Then why are you refusing to help free Ruby?" she questioned skeptically, angrily.

He sighed. "Belle, what makes you think I can? Fairy magic is powerful, and the Blue Fairy's magic is stronger than most."

Belle nearly laughed at that excuse, but bit back the action in the last moment and practically spat, "And you aren't _more_ powerful? Is that what you are telling me?"

"I thought you didn't want me to use magic," Gold countered.

"And yet that hasn't stopped you from using it, has it?" Belle retorted sharply. "But now that I am actually asking you to use your power to help one of my friends and protect this town, you _aren't_ willing?"

She brushed at her eyes, feeling the burning sting of unshed tears. His refusal to help shouldn't have surprised her – and it shouldn't have upset her this much. He had shown, more than once, that he was incapable of making the right choice, of even understanding that there _was_ a right choice. With Regina and the wraith, then by lying to her about using magic, not to mention all the things he had done back in their old land...

He tried, she knew that. And she loved him for it, for the good inside of him, just as she loved him in spite of his failings. But her father had just died and her usual patience was wearing thin.

She looked away, still blinking back the tears. "If Cora is truly as powerful as you and Regina say, then you have to help fight her."

"Why?"

"_Why_?" Belle repeated softly, aghast that he could even ask such a question - though again, not really surprised. "Because it is the right thing to do. Because there is good in you, Rumple. I know it."

"I am doing the right thing."

She spun to face him. "By exchanging this entire town for my safety?" she asked softly. "Is that the deal you made with Cora?"

His expression was unreadable, then he replied, "It is a bit more complicated than that."

"How?"

He sighed. "I stay out of her plans, and in return she does not harm you _and_ stays out of my plans."

"_Your_ plans?" Belle questioned, brow furrowed as she pondered his response for a moment. Then her expression cleared, and she asked, "You mean your plans to find your son?" She received a single nod as her answer, and scowled. "You can't do that. You can't let everyone here suffer."

"You want me to break my deal with Cora?" Gold asked quietly. "You are willing to sacrifice your safety in order to help a woman who locked you away for over eighteen years?"

"I am willing to sacrifice my safety to do what is right," Belle countered. "Just like I did years ago when I agreed to go with you in exchange for the safety of my family and my father's people."

"That was different."

"_No_, it wasn't," Belle snapped. She shook her head, unwilling and unable to accept his explanation. Regina _had_ used her as a pawn in the chess game she and Rumple seemed to be constantly playing, and Belle was not foolish enough to believe that she could trust the other woman. She would not let her guard down around Regina, not ever, because she did not want to end up locked away in a tower or a mental hospital again.

But this was about more than just Regina, and she could not in good conscience allow the entire town to be destroyed.

Besides…

"Cora killed my father, didn't she?" Belle murmured softly. "That's what Ruby and Regina think, anyway."

Gold said nothing.

"And you want me to just… forget about that? To let her get away with murder? With murdering _my father_?"

"Your father tried to send you over the town line!"

"And that gives Cora the right to kill him? That means his life doesn't matter? That means that I shouldn't care about what was done to him, that I shouldn't want justice?" Belle sighed. "I'm fighting her," she said, jerking her chin up and stubbornly meeting Gold's disapproving stare. "I am going to work with Regina and I am going to fight Cora and free Ruby. If you want to hide away like a coward…"

"I am no coward!" Gold seethed. "I am doing this to _protect_ you."

"I don't need your protection," Belle shot back, "and I don't want it. Not when it comes at so high of a price."

* * *

"Charles? To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Stefan asked, rising to his feet as Charles entered the town hall.

Charles glanced around, taking in the scene. Stefan had installed himself in the mayor's office, a clear sign that he intended to run this town now that Regina had been removed. It was a bold move, and one that the other members of royalty would not be so quick to accept once they realized just how much power Stefan and Leah were gathering.

He pushed the thought away. He was not here to fight over who should be mayor.

"I wanted to speak to you about the trial of Ruby Lucas."

Stefan's lips flattened into a thin, disdainful line at the mention of the werewolf. "Yes, that is a ghastly business. Well, what about it concerns you?" he asked.

Stefan had not offered Charles a seat, but he seated himself opposite Stefan's desk anyway. Stefan might be the one seizing power in Storybrooke, but they were both still kings, and Charles had every right to act as an equal around the other man.

He said bluntly, "I would like to oversee the trial. When can you make arrangements to transfer the suspect into my custody?"

Stefan stared at him blankly, then murmured, "_You_ would like to…"

"Sir Maurice was a noble in my land," Charles continued, pressing on smoothly so that Stefan would have little time to protest. "His murder is my concern."

"Of course you are concerned," Stefan said. "You would not be a good king if you weren't… But Leah and I have already started the planning."

"I appreciate that, and I would appreciate any assistance you can give me in the trial," Charles said. "I am sure that your Blue Guard has quite a bit of information that would be most helpful to me."

Stefan leaned back in his seat and regarded Charles thoughtfully, as though weighing his options. Then he said firmly, "I don't think it will work to transfer the defendant into your custody."

"Why not?" Charles demanded, not bothering to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"First of all, Ruby Lucas is best kept in her cell in the sheriff's station," Stefan replied. "There is magic on the door, magic that prevents Regina from freeing her."

"Well, that is easily solved," Charles answered with a shrug. "We can leave her there, and I will take the sheriff's office as my own."

"The Blue Guard is using it right now."

"I doubt they would mind moving somewhere else," Charles said in a clipped tone. "Or, if that is too much trouble, I am sure we can share the place. I won't need that much space."

Stefan clicked his tongue against his teeth and regarded Charles in uneasy silence.

* * *

"He's right, of course," Leah said as she deftly knotted her hair into a bun and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. "He has more of a right to try Miss Lucas than we do."

"So you think we should give him this trial?" Stefan asked skeptically as he pulled off his dress shirt and reached for sweats and a t-shirt.

Leah frowned and turned to face her husband. "I don't know," she replied. "I am… concerned."

"About?"

"Ella," Leah replied, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. She ran a hand down the fabric of her nightgown, smoothing out the wrinkles, and continued, "She was close to Snow. Too close to be impartial in this instance. What if she influences her father-in-law? What if she convinces him that he needs to find Miss Lucas innocent regardless of what the evidence says?"

"Do you think she will?" Stefan asked curiously.

"I think Snow's friends have a habit of doing whatever they think will make their dear princess most _happy_," Leah answered, her words bitter. "And we both know Snow would not want to see her precious werewolf imprisoned, regardless of the horror of the crime."

"If we refuse Charles…"

"I know," Leah muttered. She rubbed her eyes and sighed heavily. "I know. It won't end well, and the last thing we want is to jeopardize the safety and order of this town by turning to infighting. But we _cannot_ allow Sir Maurice's murder to go unpunished. What kind of signal will that send to people? What precedent will it set? It is bad enough that we allow Regina and Rumpelstiltskin to wander about freely, but we don't have the power to stop them right now. Miss Lucas, though... we can at least get justice for Sir Maurice, so how can we take the risk of allowing Charles to try her?"

"So what do we do?"

"I don't know."

* * *

The pounding at the door woke Regina.

She had not been sleeping particularly soundly. Her subconscious seemed intent on tormenting her, and she saw her mother in every one of her dreams, watching over everything like a malevolent warden.

She jolted awake, the nightmares fading, and tried to get her bearings in the darkness of her bedroom.

The knocking continued.

She pushed back the covers, disentangling herself from the sheets, and hurried into the hall. Henry had emerged from his own room, wide-eyed and worried, and was standing at the top of the stairs.

"Henry, go wait in the guest bedroom with David," she said quickly.

He started to protest, but the look on her face silenced him, and he nodded slowly.

She barely had time to dwell on the fact that Henry was actually listening to her now, that ever since the revelation of his precious book's omission of Daniel he'd been starting to trust her. It was something she could think about some other time, a change that she could revel in later. Right now...

The knocking continued.

She rushed down the stairs, almost stumbling in her haste to get to the door. Her magic hummed in her veins, and she clenched her hands into fists, ready to attack if it was an enemy standing on the other side of her door.

Had her mother somehow gotten past the protection spell around the house?

But when she opened the door, it was just Granny standing there, looking strained and worried.

Regina let out a sigh of relief, and at the same time snapped, "It's the middle of the night. What could you _possibly_ want?"

"There was a shipwreck at the harbor," Granny said quickly, her words tumbling out.

"A… _shipwreck_?" Regina repeated in disbelief, trying to wrap her sleepy brain around what Granny was saying. How could a ship have been wrecked in the harbor? Did they even have ships to be wrecked?

"A portal appeared, and a destroyed ship sort of… fell up through it."

"Fell _up_?" Regina said, again bewildered.

"_Yes_! Would you stop echoing everything I say and just _listen_?" Granny hissed. "Leroy called to tell me all of this. He said the ship was destroyed – in pieces, really - and they pulled a man from the wreckage."

Everything came together in startling clarity. There was only one possible explanation for the bizarre event, only one way this made any sense.

"Leroy thought that maybe Cora was bringing more people here, an army to attack us. Does that seem like something she would do? Does she have the power to do it? You didn't open a portal, did you? That was the other possibility, but..."

Granny continued rambling, but Regina had tuned her out.

She had never bothered to debrief Ruby or Granny - or any of her supposed allies - on Hook. The fact that he had been with Cora in the Enchanted Forest was a fact only a few knew... Gold, David, Henry. He had never factored into her half-formed plans to reach Emma and Mary Margaret, and whatever energy she had wasted thinking about him... well, mostly she had been angry that he hadn't killed her mother as he promised he would. So the others didn't know how he was, wouldn't understand what the appearance of his ship meant.

She didn't even know what it meant. Was he still her mother's ally? Or would Cora's betrayal turn him away from her? Were Mary Margaret and Emma with him, or had he left them behind just as Cora had left him?

Why had Cora left him? Regina had not bothered to think much about that. She'd been far too preoccupied with her mother's presence to wonder about the pirate. But he had been in the Enchanted Forest, and now he might be here, and...

"When did this all happen?" she asked sharply, interrupting Granny.

"I came over here as soon as Leroy called," Granny replied, "and they'd only been at the harbor for a few minutes."

Regina felt a shiver of anticipation down her spine as she asked for confirmation of her suspicions, "The man they pulled from the wreckage… did he have a hook for a hand?"

Granny gaped. "How did you…?"

Regina ignored the question. Hook was _here_.

She needed to get to the docks _now_.

"Stay with Henry," she ordered tersely, then she disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

* * *

A/N: The last fourteen chapters essentially all took place over the course of three days. Now that those three days are over, time is going to move a bit faster in this story.


	15. Welcome to Storybrooke

Chapter Fifteen: Welcome to Storybrooke

The ship had indeed been wrecked.

The mast was broken in two, the top half was floating in the water with its jagged, broken end tangled around several ropes and the remains of one of the sails. The ship was tilted dangerously to one side, nearly submerged beneath the waves One of the ship's railings had been snapped off. Wood debris drifted past, having been torn from the hull, but the darkness of the night made it hard to see the extent of that damage.

What was obvious was that the ship was sinking.

Leroy was standing on the edge of the dock, staring down at the unconscious body of Captain Hook while Archie knelt at his feet and checked the pirate for signs of life. Several of the other dwarves were attempting to drag the ship out of the water by a few of the robes they had managed to snare, but they were making little progress. The ship was too heavy and ungainly for their efforts.

Regina swept forward and, ignoring the startled and suspicious looks her sudden presence elicited, demanded of Leroy, "Is there any sign of Miss Blanchard or Miss Swan?"

"Should there be?" Leroy asked, expression registering surprise before his eyes narrowed slightly at her.

Regina nodded towards the still body of the pirate and said briskly, "Captain Hook was with them in our land. If he came through a portal, they might have, too." She scanned the water, but it was too dark to see clearly.

In response to her comment, two of the dwarves – and she couldn't be sure which two – jumped into the water and began swimming around the ship with powerful strokes. It was an effective if inelegant way to search the remains, and they were quite obviously unwilling to wait for their brothers to draw the ship closer to the docks.

"I didn't realize dwarves could swim," she commented vaguely, not really expecting an answer.

"He's alive," Archie said, interrupting before Leroy could reply and gesturing towards Hook. "He has a heartbeat and he's breathing, but it's shallow. He's going to need medical attention."

Regina looked down at Hook with disdain, a feeling of frustration and anger blossoming in her chest. "Pity," she drawled, the word hard and hollow. "He would have been more use to me dead."

He had lied to her, betrayed her, manipulated her - and gotten away with it. She had learned a long time ago the dangers of allowing anyone to have power over her, and the fact that he had outsmarted her stung.

The fact that he had outsmarted her by teaming up with her mother was just unthinkable.

"Lock him up," she said tersely, fear and anger waring for control of her emotions as her thoughts turned to her mother and how much damage the other woman could do with Hook at her side. "Somewhere he can't escape."

"You're not the one giving orders here, sister," Leroy snapped at her.

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and let out a long breath. "Fine," she answered, too tired to fit much venom into her voice, "Let Hook wander around Storybrooke." She turned away from him and added sarcastically, "I am sure that nothing bad will come of that."

"We let _you_ wander around, don't we?" Leroy retorted.

"Yes, well… you don't really have a choice with me, do you, dear?" Regina pointed out, her gaze still traveling over the water and the shipwreck. "But let's not pretend you wouldn't be happy to lock me up if you were given the chance."

The sound of footsteps on the dock interrupted the argument, and Regina glanced over her shoulder to see the Mother Superior appear. She tensed automatically, but then forced herself to relax. She might not be ready to trust the other woman, but, in the matter of finding Mary Margaret and Emma and defeating Cora, they were – reluctantly – on the same side.

Mother Superior nodded to them in a silent greeting before turning a questioning gaze towards the destroyed ship.

Archie rose to his feet. "Regina says the ship came from our home," he explained to the newcomer. "Captain Hook is from there – and he was with Mary Margaret and Emma."

"Snow!"

The cry got everyone's attention, and Leroy immediately rushed to the edge of the dock. "Where?" he demanded, leaning over the water and squinting into the gloom.

She was tangled in ropes still attached to the ship. A torn strip of cloth had been covering her from view, but as one of the dwarves shoved it aside, Regina was able to catch a glimpse of moonlight on pale skin. From the distance, it was impossible to tell if she was still alive.

The two dwarves in the water were frantically pulling at the ropes around her, trying to get her free. It was proving to be a challenge, probably because they were also treading water in a freezing ocean.

Regina waved her hand and the ropes disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

She watched impassively as the two dwarves dragged Mary Margaret through the waves and heaved her onto the dock. Her body rolled ungracefully to a stop near Leroy, her arms flaying out and slapping with a thud onto the wooden planks beneath them.

Archie hurried to her side, leaving Hook, and took the young woman's pale hand in his own, checking the wrist for a pulse. There was a moment of tense silence, then he let out a sigh of relief. "Got it," he murmured, smiling slowly.

Leroy knelt at Mary Margaret's side and tenderly pushed away a few of her short strands of hair, revealing a shallow gash at her hairline. The cut was jagged, and a bruise was forming around the split skin, indicating that she had probably been hit with something. She was bleeding, but not enough to cause much worry, though Regina had some vague notion that a bruise like that could indicate the possibility of a concussion.

Unfortunately, there were no doctors on the docks, and no one seemed to want to go get Whale.

Mary Margaret shifted slightly at Leroy's touch, and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked a few times, staring up at them with an uncomprehending gaze.

Then everything rushed back to her, and she lurched unsteadily to her hands and knees, gaze darting towards the water frantically.

"Emma! No, no… Emma! _Emma_!" Mary Margaret half-shouted, half-sobbed. Her dark eyes fixed on the ocean and she stumbled to her feet and towards the water, but Leroy's arms wrapped around her tightly, halting her progress. For a moment, she struggled, pushing at him in a half-crazed attempt to break free, but she was too weak and his grip was strong, and finally she simply sagged against his chest.

Regina exchanged a worried glance with Archie, who had also risen to his feet. She easily recognized the desperation in Mary Margaret's expression – she'd felt it before, when Henry had been trapped in the mines, and even before that, when he had disappeared to Boston to find Emma.

"She… the portal… it closed before she could…" Mary Margaret said, shuddering. She broke out of Leroy's embrace and turned towards the two magic users on the dock. Her gaze passed over Regina without pause, but stilled on the Mother Superior. "I have to go back," she said firmly, though her voice shook with emotion. "You need to send me _back_!"

"I can't," Mother Superior replied softly, shaking her head in apology as she took a hesitant step towards Mary Margaret.

"No! No, you _have_ to. My daughter is still there!" Mary Margaret cried, surging forward and seizing the front of Mother Superior's coat. Her fingers twisted into the other woman's collar. "I have to go _back_."

To her credit, Mother Superior did not flinch in the face of Mary Margaret's unpredictable desperation, but instead said calmly, "Snow, I can't right now, but perhaps if we talked about it more we could come up with a plan to…"

"I don't have _time_," Mary Margaret hissed, face flushing with anger. "Emma doesn't have time." She rounded on Regina, eyes wild. "Use your magic," she demanded. "Send me _back_."

"I can't," Regina replied flatly, not bothering to soften the answer. Mary Margaret was desperate to get back to her daughter, and Regina's words caused her mouth to fall open in mute horror and her skin to lose all color. Still, Regina had suffered her fair share of losses in the past, and knew that sometimes it was better to be direct than to beat around the bush. In the end, false hope did little more than cause unnecessary pain.

"But Emma…"

"Snow, listen..." Leroy said, taking Mary Margaret's arm to draw her away.

"I am not going to let Regina keep me away from my daughter _again_!"

"I'm not the one who did this," Regina snapped back, bristling at the unfairness of the accusation as she gestured towards the ocean. Whatever else could be blamed on her, she was not the reason Emma had been left behind.

"No," Mary Margaret snarled, pale skin flushing darkly, "you're just the reason that I missed twenty-eight years of my daughter's life! You're just the reason Emma and I fell through the hat! You're just the reason we were all cursed to Maine!"

Regina took a step back, surprised by the vehemence in Mary Margaret's voice. Snow had never been like that. Even at their worst confrontations, Snow had never looked at Regina with such vicious hatred.

But while Snow had lost almost everything else in her life, she had not yet lost a child. And this loss - to lose Emma once, and then be reunited with her years later just to lose her all over again...

Pain made people do irrational things and lay irrational blame on everyone around.

Regina knew that quite well.

"Look, sister, we'll figure out a way to get Emma back," Leroy interjected, drawing Mary Margaret's attention away from Regina. "With fairy magic and Regina's help, we can find a way to…"

"Help? What makes you think we can trust _her_ help?" Mary Margaret scoffed.

"She's on our side," Leroy said reluctantly, and it was clear from the way his lips twisted into a scowl that he despised having to actually say the words. "She's keeping Henry safe, and trying to get you back. Ruby and Granny both believe it, so… I do, too."

"Really? And what did she actually do to help _you_? What did she do to help _Emma and I_?"

Leroy had no answer for that.

It would have annoyed Regina, except that she _hadn't_ done anything to help Mary Margaret and Emma. She'd thought about it, of course, and if any plan had seemed obvious, she was convinced she would have gone through with it.

For Henry.

But there was no easy way to transverse worlds, and her mother's meddling in Storybrooke had caused enough other problems to divert her attention. How could she help them when she could barely help herself? How could she help them when she had only ever once been able to stand up to her mother, and pushing her mother through the mirror _still_ hadn't freed her from the other woman's insidious presence?

"We'll get Emma back," Leroy was saying, "but we need to regroup first, and we need to deal with the pirate…" and he turned to gesture to Hook's unconscious body, but then trailed off into an uneasy silence.

Regina followed his gaze.

Hook was gone.

"Where did he go?" Archie asked in surprise, but no one seemed to have an answer to that. In the excitement of Mary Margaret's rescue, none of them had been paying attention to the supposedly unconscious man.

Regina pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, and let out a shaky breath that somehow turned itself into a half-crazed laugh. All eyes turned to her in surprise, but she ignored the confused stares. Her hold on sanity seemed to be slipping rather quickly: Mary Margaret wasn't the only one who'd had three very stressful days.

"Hook _and_ my mother loose in Storybrooke," she murmured, shaking her head. "Oh, this just keeps getting better and better."

"Hook can't be trusted," Mary Margaret said quietly, reaching up to wipe the hair from her eyes and pausing in surprise when she saw the blood on her fingers. She touched her forehead again, gently brushing her fingers over the gash, and winced slightly.

Then she met Regina's gaze.

"He helped us, but he betrayed us, too, and…" She didn't finish the thought, and didn't need to. Regina could perfectly imagine how Hook had double-crossed them, leading them on and then betraying their trust when they least expected it.

Except... if that was the case, why had he helped Mary Margaret find her way through a portal? That was a question Regina knew she would need an answer to - but not now. Not yet. There were too many other more important problems to address.

Mary Margaret reached up to massage her temples and sighed, her breath turning to white mist in the cold air. "We need to find him."

"We'll find him," Doc offered, gesturing to the other dwarves. "Let's go. We can spread out, cover more ground that way."

"You should check in at the hospital, and with Dr. Whale," Archie suggested. "Hook was in pretty bad shape when we pulled him from the wreckage. I'm not sure he could have gotten that far."

Doc nodded, and all the dwarves except Leroy hurried back towards the town, leaving Regina, Mary Margaret, Archie, Mother Superior, and Leroy standing alone on the dock surrounded by the wreckage of the _Jolly Roger_.

Mary Margaret shivered violently, and then looked down at herself as though just then realizing that she was drenched and it was winter in Maine.

Regina opened her mouth to say something - though she wasn't really sure what, when Mary Margaret suddenly started and looked around, panic coming into her eyes once more.

"David," she asked. "Where is he? I need to wake him up."

Regina blinked.

"Ah, well… that could present a challenge," she said.

Mary Margaret's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" she nearly growled, taking a step forward. "What did you do to him?"

"I kept him _safe_," Regina shot back, annoyed.

"There's a spell up around her house," Leroy said, providing a quick explanation before the conversation could devolve into another heated argument. "To keep out everyone."

"Everyone? Why do you need to keep _everyone_ out of your house?" Mary Margaret demanded. Then she paused, eyes widening in bewilderment, and asked, "Wait… David is in your house?"

"Henry insisted," Regina said disdainfully. "In an enchanted sleep he has no way of protecting himself against my mother should she decide to go after him. At least within the confines of my house he cannot be harmed."

Mary Margaret accepted that in an ungracious silence, then asked sharply, "But why did you need to keep everyone in the town out of your house?" She hesitated as an idea occurred to her, and then pressed on with a mix of anger and horror, "Does this mean I can't get to David?"

"My mother is quite good at manipulating people to suit her own ends," Regina said, giving Mary Margaret a pointed stare, and the younger woman flushed slightly at the veiled accusation. "Keeping everyone out of the house was the only way to ensure that there would be a place Henry could go that she could not reach." She folded her arms over her chest. "The spell was created so that the only four people who can enter or leave the house are myself, Henry, Granny, and Ruby."

"So I can't get in, and David can't get out?" Mary Margaret spat, shaking with pent-up frustration. The combination of losing Emma and being kept from David was clearly driving her close to the brink of madness, and for a moment Regina was actually worried that the other woman would lash out in vengeful fury.

Regina refused to show any fear, though, and she refused to back down. She had not thought through what would happen when Mary Margaret and Emma returned – some part of her had not really believed that they _would_ return. And the part of her that had learned from past experience that Snow White and Prince Charming always found a way back to each other had assumed that it would not happen until Cora had been dealt with because Cora would find a way to prevent Mary Margaret's return. Only after she was defeated – _if_ she was defeated – would the two heroes be reunited.

She did not have a contingency plan for this particular scenario.

"What is this; another plot to keep us apart?" Mary Margaret accused.

"_What_?" Regina retorted, baffled by the accusation. It wasn't that Mary Margaret did not have a reason to distrust her, or even to believe that she might go out of her way to destroy the Charming family, but it was ridiculous to believe that she would be focused on that _now_. "My _mother_ is in Storybrooke," she said. "Do you really think I have had time to focus on _anything_ else?"

"_Time_?" Mary Margaret shot back "From what I can tell, you _haven't_ been busy. Have you been battling with your mother? Have you come up with some plan to defeat her? Have you actually accomplished _anything_?"

Regina felt as though she had been slapped, but she could not provide an answer to the diatribe because she _hadn't_ accomplished anything.

"Can't you do something about this?" Mary Margaret demanded of Mother Superior.

"Unfortunately, no," Mother Superior replied. "The protection spell is strong – and Regina made it person-specific. The spell can be broken, and even modified – but only by her." She glanced quickly at Regina and said softly, "It is powerful - and complicated - magic."

Regina smiled grimly. "I learned from the best," she said sardonically, thinking back to those training sessions with Rumpelstilskin.

Then she frowned.

"Wait," she said slowly, turning to face the Mother Superior fully. "The only way you could know that much about the spell I used is if you tried to get past it, if you tried to get into my house."

"I did," Mother Superior stated simply. Regina stared at her, and she shrugged and elaborated, "Can you blame me? I sensed a sudden surge of dark magic in Storybrooke, and then you placed a magic barrier around your house. One can hardly fault me for being suspicious." She nodded towards Leroy and added, "It wasn't until two days later than anyone informed me that your mother was here."

"Can we get back to the subject of my husband?" Mary Margaret interrupted coolly, not at all concerned about the fact that the Mother Superior had tried to break into Regina's house. She turned to Regina, and said, "If you can modify the spell, then why can't you just modify it so that I can pass through the barrier?"

Regina considered this thoughtfully, then slowly inclined her head. "I could do that," she agreed, "but it is complicated and would take time."

"How long?"

"A few hours, maybe?" Regina suggested. "I'm not really sure, I haven't done a spell quite like this before." She extended her hand. "Give me some of your hair."

"_What_?"

"I need it for the spell," Regina explained patiently. "I can add your hair to it, and David's as well, and that will allow you to pass through the barrier."

"Fine," Mary Margaret said, yanking out a few strands of hair and thrusting them into Regina's hand. "Just hurry." Regina opened her mouth to snap back some retort, but Mary Margaret continued in a voice tinged with desperation, "_Please_."

Regina nodded slowly, accepting Mary Margaret's plea. "I will call you as soon as I am done," she said.

Mary Margaret turned away. "I'm going home," she announced to Leroy. "I need… I need a shower and a plan. And we should… we should gather everyone. Granny and Ruby…" She paused, then looked around, her brow wrinkling in confusion. "I'm surprised Ruby isn't already here. She seems to have a knack for showing up whenever I need her."

Leroy swallowed uneasily and exchanged a quick glance with Archie. Despite her obvious fatigue and preoccupation with David and Emma, Mary Margaret did not miss that, and her expression grew immediately concerned. Her gaze darted back and forth between the four people standing before her, waiting for an answer.

"Well, see, the thing is…" Archie began gently, preemptively trying to keep Mary Margaret calm, "Ruby is in jail."

"_What_?" It was obvious that whatever Mary Margaret had expected, it was not that. Her expression changed to one of disbelief, but when no one made any attempt to tell her it was all a joke, she gaped. "Why?"

"She was accused of murder," Archie explained.

Mary Margaret's jaw dropped even further. "I… how… but…" she stammered. Then she regained her composure and splotches of angry color appeared on her cheeks. "Murder of _who_?"

"Moe French," Leroy said grimly.

Regina fought back the urge to roll her eyes. It was obvious that Leroy expected the name to mean something to Mary Margaret, but Regina doubted the other woman had ever crossed paths with the man. She had not been here to witness the brewing argument between the werewolf and the flower-shop owner, and the fact that Ruby was accused of murdering a man she'd never heard of would only serve to confuse her further.

Sure enough, Mary Margaret shook her head and asked in bewilderment, "Who?"

"He was… uh… Sir Maurice back in our land." Archie supplied quickly. Mary Margaret gave him a blank stare, and so he elaborated, "He's Belle's father."

"Who is Belle?" Mary Margaret asked.

Regina decided to cut in, and said with a slight smirk, "She's Gold's girlfriend."

"_What_?" Mary Margaret looked at Leroy and Archie for confirmation, and they both nodded. "Gold – _Rumplestilskin_ – has a _girlfriend_?"

"Yes," Regina said. And Belle wasn't just any girlfriend - she was Gold's true love. And wasn't that just so very strange?

It took Mary Margaret a moment to digest that bit of news, and then she asked, "Ruby is accused of murdering this woman's father? By whom? Who sent her to jail?"

"King Stefan and Queen Leah," Leroy growled bitterly. "They've taken control of the town. Moved into the town hall, sent their Blue Guard around to investigate the murder. Basically acting as though they get to run everything."

"They _do_ run everything now," Regina answered.

"But this isn't _their_ land," Mary Margaret protested.

"I don't think that matters much to them," Regina answered with a careless shrug. "Leah is a force to be reckoned with, and Stefan has never shied away from a fight. You can confront them if you wish, but I doubt it will do any good. The town is starting to gravitate towards them."

"So you just want me to leave Ruby in jail?" Mary Margaret asked hotly. "It's _Ruby_. She didn't murder anyone, I _know_ she didn't."

"And for once, dear, I agree," Regina replied. "But what do you propose to do? The town is in a precarious position, and though I believe they are deluding themselves into thinking otherwise, Stefan and Leah have a very tenuous hold on order and stability. Breaking Ruby out of jail will only drive us all that much closer to the edge." Her lips curled into a thin, sardonic smile. "No doubt that is something my mother is eagerly awaiting, but I'd rather not _help_ her spread chaos."

"I'm going to talk to Leah and Stefan," Mary Margaret announced determinedly. "I'll get this all straightened out. You'll see."

"I don't think it will be that easy," Archie cautioned.

Mary Margaret huffed impatiently. "I'm not leaving her to rot in prison. I am going to get her out… no matter what."

"And when Stefan and Leah refuse to let their accused murderer go?" Regina countered with a heavy sigh. It was so like Snow to be completely blinded to the situation, to believe that she could make everything right simply by demanding it. Perhaps that worked well enough in the past, where she was the beloved and undisputed hero of her land, but it was different here. _Everything_ was different here.

Mary Margaret glared at her. "I will convince them."

"No, you won't," Regina answered bluntly. "That is just as likely as you breaking your pet wolf out of jail," her eyes flicked over to Mother Superior, "and _that_ is impossible."

"What does that mean?" Mary Margaret questioned.

"The cell is now magically enforced," Mother Superior replied softly, "like the one you used to contain Rumpelstilskin. Like the spell you used on Regina before her banishment. It cannot be opened with magic, only with a key. And Stefan and Leah have the key."

"I don't understand," Mary Margaret murmured. "Why would you do that?"

There was no accusation in her tone – only bewilderment. Snow had always respected the Blue Fairy, had always treated her with deference. Even now, even when Mother Superior's magic was keeping Ruby locked away, Mary Margaret did not waver in her belief in the other woman.

A memory suddenly came to Regina's mind, a memory from a long time ago. The two of them - herself disguised and Snow unaware of who she was - traveling through the woods as Snow explained that she thought Regina could still be redeemed, could still change, could still be Good. That they could be a family.

Snow had been a fool who too easily trusted in the goodness of others, but it surprised Regina when a small part of her wanted that trust back.

She pushed the feeling away. Too much had happened; there was no going back now. She would never be good - never be good _enough_. Why bother trying?

_Henry._

She sighed.

"I did not know who Stefan and Leah planned to lock away," Mother Superior was explaining. "They did not name anyone specific." She paused, as though gathering her thoughts, then added reasonably, "Besides, it might be a good idea to have a magically reinforced cell available to us in general. I do not know how long we will remain trapped in Storybrooke, but as long as we are here, we need a way to contain anyone who commits a crime – regardless of whether or not they have magic." She glanced at Regina meaningfully. "This cell allows us to do that."

Regina bristled. "So you plan to lock me up if I don't do whatever you want?" she snapped.

"Actually," Mother Superior replied with a calm air of superiority, "I was thinking of your mother."

Regina had no reply to that besides an intense desire to slap that expression from the other woman's face.

"Can't you undo the magic?" Mary Margaret asked.

Mother Superior shook her head. "I created the spell so that it could not be undone by anyone," she answered softly. "It was the only way to truly ensure that, if we captured Cora, she would not be able to break free." She gave Mary Margaret a searching look, then added "Besides, I fear doing that would be perceived as acting against Stefan and Leah."

"So?"

"Really, dear," Regina interrupted, tired of Mary Margaret's instance that they could ignore the threat posed by Aurora's parents, "if you would calm down for a moment and think about this rationally, you would understand the implications of defying the other royalty so blatantly. This is hardly the best time to start a civil war."

"They accused Ruby of murder!"

"Then I suggest you figure out a way to prove her innocence," Regina answered.

"Fine," Mary Margaret grumbled, although Regina had a sinking feeling that the younger woman was not actually going to follow her advice.

"Come on" Leroy said, taking Mary Margaret by the arm and leading her away, "let's get you home."

Mary Margaret nodded tiredly. "Alright," she said. She gave Regina one last glance, and, nodding to her hair still clutched in Regina's hand, said, "Let me know as soon as I can see my husband."

Regina pursed her lips and gave a curt nod.

As Mary Margaret left, she looked out at the water, her eyes searching the remains of the wreckage as though she was looking for Emma. But Emma wasn't there – Emma was trapped in another world, alone and ill-equipped to deal with the inhabitants of the land.

Regina closed her eyes. In the morning, she would need to tell Henry what had happened – and that was a conversation she was not looking forward to.

When she opened her eyes again, Archie had already started up the dock, and the Mother Superior was trailing behind him, lost in thought. The fairy's pensive expression worried Regina for reasons she couldn't quite explain, and when she caught Mother Superior's gaze, a chill ran down her spine. Mother Superior gave Regina a quick, penetrating stare, and it seemed as thought here was something she wanted to say, something on the tip of her tongue. But she swallowed back the words and turned away.

Regina watched her go, and then she was left standing alone of the dock. Her gaze swept out over the water, and along the other docks towards the point where the land turned into a sandy beach.

And there, standing at the water's edge, watching the entire scene unfold, was Cora.

Regina opened her mouth to say something, but before she could utter a word her mother had disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

* * *

The look of shock on Leah's face was almost comical enough to assuage the knot of fear growing in Mary Margaret's stomach.

But only almost.

She had showered and eaten a hurried meal, and at Leroy's suggestion had tried to catch a few hours of sleep. But images of Emma half-drowning in the ocean would not leave her for long, and every time they did they were replaced by David trapped in that fiery room.

The day had dawned, and she had work to do.

She needed her council together. She needed all her trusted allies at her side once more if she was to have any hope of saving her daughter and defeating Cora.

And she was starting with Ruby.

"Snow," Leah said, rising to her feet and stepping around the ornate desk in the mayor's office. "You're back."

"I am," Mary Margaret replied.

There was a moment of tense, awkward silence.

Leah and Leopold had been civil, if not overtly friendly, allies in the past, and when Leopold had died, that tentative peace had passed to Regina. But as with many things that Regina had inherited after ascending the throne, it had started to crumble. The dissolving peace had never led to war, however – and when Snow and Charming had built their army to take back their respective kingdoms, Leah had insisted on staying neutral.

Leah, Mary Margaret remembered bitterly, did not involve herself in the lives of others, and her reasoning for denying Snow help had been simply that she did not care who sat on the throne so long as they did not harm her family or her people.

So why was she interfering in matters now?

There were so many questions Mary Margaret wanted to ask, and the fact that Leah had installed herself in the mayor's office only served to make her angrier. But now was not the time to get into the details of who had the right to rule.

Emma was still trapped somewhere in another land, and David was still caught in that terrible nightmare.

"I'm glad you've returned unharmed," Leah said, and seemed to genuinely mean it. But there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice, a look of puzzlement in her eyes. Clearly, she had no idea _how_ Mary Margaret was here.

Well, Mary Margaret saw no reason to enlighten her.

"Thank you," she said simply. She hesitated for a moment, trying to remember who Leah had been during the curse – what name had Regina's magic given her? What job, what personality?

"Is… did Emma Swan…?" Leah asked.

Mary Margaret looked away, the familiar burn of tears appearing in her eyes. She took a breath. "Emma didn't make it through the portal, but I'm going to get her back."

Leah nodded. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know how it feels to… be separated from someone you love."

Mary Margaret accepted the sentiment, but did not process it. She didn't care that Leah had been separated from a loved one in the past. She cared only about getting her daughter back – and she needed help to do it.

Margaret cleared her throat and said, "I wanted to talk to you about Ruby."

Leah's expression hardened immediately. "Yes," she said, a cold smirk curling her lips, "I thought you might." She turned and walked back around the mayor's desk. "I assure you, Miss Lucas will receive a fair trial."

"Trial? She didn't do anything wrong," Mary Margaret snapped.

"She's been accused of murder," Leah countered.

"Ruby would _never_ murder anyone," Mary Margaret answered fervently. It was only prejudice that had put Ruby in this position - if anyone had bothered to look past the lycanthropy, they would have easily seen that she was no murderer.

"She argued with the victim, even threatened him in front of witnesses," Leah replied softly but clearly, unwilling to back down. "Her fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. We have means, motive, and opportunity."

"This is ridiculous," Mary Margaret said, shaking her head. "I don't… I don't have time for this. I need Ruby's help to get Emma back now."

Leah's nostril's flared in response to Mary Margaret's demanding tone, and she asked callously, "How do you know your daughter is even still alive?"

"She _is_," Mary Margaret answered determinedly, eyes flashing. "If she was dead, I would know. I would _feel_ it."

"You don't have magic," Leah countered bluntly.

"It's not magic," Mary Margaret answered simply, her voice strong with resolution and belief. "It's _love_."

Leah gave a brittle smile and said, "I wish I could be so sure of my own daughter's wellbeing, but I prefer waiting for proof."

Mary Margaret blinked. Leah's earlier comment about being separated from someone she loved came back to her, and Mary Margaret suddenly remembered the first time she had met Leah, back when she was Snow. Her mother had still been alive then, and Leah and Stefan had come to the Summer Palace for a meeting with Leopold and Eva, bringing their new daughter with them. Snow had been only five or six, and the newborn was just a pink, wrinkly thing with a tuft of blonde hair and a powerful set of lungs.

"Aurora's alive," Mary Margaret blurted out. "And awake."

Leah froze. "I… what? How do you know?"

"She stayed in our land when Regina cast her curse," Mary Margaret replied.

Mary Margaret had only seen the younger princess that one time, when the girl was an infant. Aurora hadn't come to Snow's wedding to Charming. She'd been invited, of course – although Leah and Stefan had not helped Snow win back her throne, alienating them by refusing to invite their family to the wedding would have been foolish. And they had both come, but Aurora had not.

Leah was still staring at her, waiting for more information.

"There was a whole section of the land that wasn't affected by the curse – I don't know why. Emma and I… ran into her in a safe haven where the survivors had gone to escape the ogres."

"Ogres?"

"Yes." Mary Margaret let out a breath, knowing that this bit of news would hit Leah as hard as it had hit her. "They're back."

Leah gaped.

Then she smiled.

"Aurora's alive… awake," she murmured, sinking back into her seat, her face ashen but her eyes burning with hope. "Oh, thank God…" She blinked a few times, trying to process what Mary Margaret had told her, then asked, "And what of Philip? If Aurora is awake then he must be alive as well."

"He was alive long enough to save her. But he was attacked by a wraith after she awoke," Mary Margaret said gently.

Leah accepted this in silence, her expression now as hard as stone. "I see." She looked away, taking a moment to compose herself. Then she turned her gaze back to Mary Margaret and asked, "Is Aurora with Sheriff Swan now?"

"No. We were… separated," Mary Margaret admitted reluctantly. "She wasn't with us at the portal."

Leah's eyes narrowed. "You left my daughter _behind_?" she asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Mary Margaret bristled. "My daughter is trapped there as well!"

"An accident, I presume?" Leah snapped. "You took _your_ daughter with you when you went looking for this portal that would bring you to Storybrooke, but you purposefully left _mine_ behind. In a land that has been apparently overrun with _ogres_!"

"We were going to go back for her!" Mary Margaret argued. "We didn't want to leave her, but we didn't have a choice."

"_Of course_ you had a choice!"

"We needed to stop Cora!" Mary Margaret was practically shouting now, her hands placed on the mayor's desk, her palms pressing flat against the wood as she leaned in. "We needed to get back here to protect all of _you_."

Leah rolled her eyes. "Cora? So you coordinated your excuses with Widow Lucas? Or Regina? Do you really think if you keep repeating that ridiculous story we will all start believing it?"

"It isn't an excuse," Mary Margaret retorted fiercely. "You have _no idea_ what Cora can do, what she is capable of."

Leah stood up. "Even supposing that this woman is not some poorly made up phantom of yours, why would I trust _you_? I know what you are capable of, and it seems to involve leaving my daughter on her own in a dangerous land when it suits you best."

"That's not what happened!" Mary Margaret was nearly apoplectic with rage.

But Leah was equally furious. "How dare you storm in here and demand that I release Ruby Lucas? Why should I allow your friends to get away with murder when you can't even be bothered to protect my daughter?" She pointed towards the door. "_Get out_!"

"Not without Ruby!"

"She is in prison," Leah said coldly, "and will remain there until she is found innocent or guilty of this murder."

"And you're going to oversee the trial?" Mary Margaret scoffed. "Who gave you that right? What makes you think that her freedom is something you get to grant or take away? She is a resident of _my_ kingdom."

"Yes, and if I thought you could be impartial, I might consider letting you oversee the trial," Leah retorted viciously. "But I sincerely doubt you could manage that. You will find her innocent regardless of how all the evidence looks."

"Whether or not I am fit to oversee her trial is not something you have the right to decide," Mary Margaret hissed.

Leah's lips pressed into a thin smile. "We shall see," she said softly.

Mary Margaret felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. This Storybrooke was very different from the one she had left behind.


	16. No Place Like Home

Chapter Sixteen: No Place Like Home

The headache was growing.

Regina leaned against the counter and closed her eyes, feeling the throbbing pain that had started on the docks and only grown worse in the intervening hours. She needed to sleep. She needed more than that – she needed to get away from all of this, from the tension and the rivalries, from the constant suspicion, from the flaring emotions around her.

She needed to get away from the looming presence of her mother.

Dawn was breaking over the horizon, casting bright rays of light through the unusually cloudless sky. She stared out of the window and watched the shadows slowly retreat across her perfectly manicured lawn.

She sighed.

The potion in front of her was glowing, a vibrant light and dark blue mixing together. All she needed to do was add the few strands of short brown hair on the counter to the liquid, and Mary Margaret would have free reign over her house. She'd even had the foresight to pluck a few of David's hairs as well, or else he would not have been able to leave upon awakening.

But now it was done – the complicated magic made, the solution lying right in front of her.

So why was she hesitating?

She didn't want Mary Margaret to be happy. She didn't want to watch true love's kiss bring David back, didn't want to watch the two melt into each other with their sickeningly sweet looks and their promises of _always find you_. She didn't want that anger, that hatred, that hurt to flare in her chest again, didn't want the viciously cruel reminder of everything Mary Margaret had, everything she _didn't_ have.

Except…

Mary Margaret _wasn't_ happy, and bringing David back wouldn't change that. Emma was gone, trapped in a world that would likely kill her; or worse, turn her into something unrecognizable. And when David awoke and Mary Margaret told him everything, they would march off hand in hand, believing that they could save their daughter, only to be sorely disappointed.

They would crumble, their happiness destroyed, and wasn't that what Regina wanted?

So why was she hesitating?

The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled her attention away from her gloomy thoughts, and a shiver ran down her spine. This confrontation, she knew, would be far harder than any conversation she had ever had with her numerous enemies. It would be harder, even, then interactions with her own mother.

She had long since learned that those she loved could hurt her the most, and the one with the strongest grip on her heart was Henry.

He appeared in the kitchen, with his hair mused and sleep clinging to his eyes, still in his pajamas which she noticed with a start were too small for him. He'd grown a few inches since the curse had broken, and apparently David hadn't thought to buy him new clothes.

Sooner or later, she would need to remedy that.

He'd fallen back asleep while she'd been at the docks, lured into it by Granny's promises – _lies_ – that everything was alright and he didn't need to worry. Regina had felt relief upon returning home to see him curled up in the bed next to David. It had been a momentary delay of the conversation she dreaded, the one that would have to happen now.

Henry's eyes darted past her to the potion vial on the counter. "Are you doing magic?" he asked, surprised. Worry clouded his expression. "Did something happen? Did… did your mother get through the barrier around the house?"

Regina shook her head, again struck by the fact that instead of jumping to the conclusion that she was plotting something nefarious, his first assumption was that she was trying to protect them. So much had changed since the conversation about Daniel, about Cora, about how much of the story was left out of Henry's precious book.

She really needed to figure out who had written that book – and why.

She forced a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Come here," she said, gesturing to him.

He did, steps slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving her face. He was a perceptive boy, and he knew something was wrong.

She bent over so that she could look him in the eye. "Henry," she said softly, "I need to tell you something."

"Something happened!" Henry demanded, fear and anger warring for control of his voice. "I _knew_ it. Granny said that everything was alright, but she was lying to me, wasn't she? _Wasn't she_?"

_People lie_, she thought.

Aloud, she said, "Henry, a portal opened last night."

"Emma's back!" Henry exclaimed, joy lighting up his features in a way she hadn't seen in years. Something clenched painfully in her chest, momentarily taking her breath away. The reminder was too stark, too painful – no matter how much Henry might trust her now, he still loved Emma more.

"Henry… she's not here," Regina said gently, wishing there was some way to soften the blow. "Miss Blanchard made it through the portal, but something happened and Miss Swan was left behind."

He took a step back. "What… what do you mean? How could she… what… no, that's not…" he stammered, shaking his head, refusing to believe. "No. _No_." Eyes narrowing, his snapped, "Snow White would _never_ abandon her daughter."

"She didn't do it on purpose," Regina said. "It was an accident."

Henry took another step backwards, further away from her. "No," he said, "no. That can't… you're wrong." Tears pricked at his eyes, and Regina realized with a pang that she didn't need to tell him the worst of it – that Emma was alone in a world she had no idea how to navigate, that the chances of her making it out unscathed were slim at best.

He'd already figured that out.

"Henry…"

"What do you mean _something happened_? _What_ happened? _Why_ would Mary Margaret…" He stopped, took a breath, changed the question. "_How_ did Mary Margaret and Emma get separated?"

"I don't know," Regina answered honestly. The previous conversation on the docks had not touched on that point, and Regina had not had long enough to think through the possibilities…

But she was fairly certain Cora was somehow behind it.

Perhaps it was paranoia, but she was not going to underestimate her mother.

"How can you _not_ know?" Henry shouted at her. "How can you… you were supposed to bring them _both_ back! You _promised_ me!"

"I know, and I…"

"_NO_!"

He turned and darted out of the kitchen towards the front door of the house. She wasn't sure if he was running away from her or towards something else, but either way it didn't matter. She knew she couldn't let him wander blindly through the town.

She caught up to him at the front door and grabbed both his arms, stopping him. He struggled against her, tears in his eyes and a look of desperation on his face, and she was reminded abruptly of Mary Margaret struggling in Leroy's arms, trying desperately to find a way back to her daughter.

Bitter jealousy flared in her chest. Emma Swan had _no idea_ how loved she was, and didn't properly appreciate it.

"Henry, listen to me," she begged. "_Please_."

"You did this, didn't you?" Henry spat at her, his fear and grief turning to anger that was directed entirely towards her. "You separated them. You found a way to make sure Emma would stay behind. This is all your fault!"

"Henry, no!"

When would people stop heaping ridiculous accusations on her?

"Henry, listen to me," she said again, her grip tightening on his arms, refusing to let him pull away. "I had nothing to do with any of this. I swear to you."

He frowned, refusing to believe her. "Then why were you doing magic last night?" he asked suspiciously, eyes moving past her towards the kitchen.

"It's a modification to the barrier spell around the house," she explained patiently. "So that Miss Blanchard can come in to wake David, and so that the two of them can leave."

Henry stilled, his suspicion tempered slightly. She could see the truth in his eyes – that he wanted to believe her, but didn't know how. Didn't know if he _could_. Didn't know if she was trustworthy, or if this was all some elaborate trick, a way to separate him from everyone he loved.

"Can you take me to see Mary Margaret?" he asked finally.

"How about I call Miss Blanchard and have her come here?" Regina suggested. "As soon as I cast the modification spell, she'll be able to enter the house, and I know she wants to see David."

He nodded silently, and slipping out of her grasp, turned and fled back up the stairs and into David's room.

Regina sighed and walked back into the kitchen.

The vial was still sitting on the counter, the two shades of blue wrapping slowly around each other. She contemplated it for a long moment, watching the light cast by the potion, the faint glow that seemed to illuminate the entire bottle.

She bit her lip.

The spell was ready. All she had to do was cast it, and then…

Then Mary Margaret and David would have complete access to her house, to her life, to Henry. Once it was done, she wouldn't be able to lock them out again without incurring their suspicion, and all they had to do was say a few words and Henry would be lost to her for good. She was under no delusions – her relationship with Henry might be getting better, but he would still choose the side of Good over her.

How could she let them into her life when they still had so much power over her happiness? How could she let them past the barriers around her only sanctuary, how could she give them full access to Henry when they could so easily take him away from her?

For three days, she had lived with the constant of her mother's presence, the suspicion of the townspeople, and the realization that everything might fall to pieces before her very eyes…

But for three days, Henry had been completely and only _hers_.

_That_, she knew, was the true reason she was hesitating.

But if she didn't cast the spell, Henry would turn all his grief into anger and hatred and suspicion… against her. She had to do this to prove to him that she loved him, that she was trying to be better. She had to take the chance that David would snatch Henry away as he had done before, or Henry would simply leave on his own.

"Damned if you do," she murmured, lifting the vial, "and damned if you don't."

* * *

Mary Margaret stalked from town hall still shaking with rage and some other less identifiable emotion. The conversation with Leah had not gone as she had hoped, and some part of her did not understand how everything had fallen apart so quickly. Leroy had told her last night how George had framed Ruby for murder once, but David had been able to prove her innocence. Were people really so blind that they would fall for the same trick twice?

She started walking instead, paying little attention to where she was going. Her feet moved briskly, choosing the way of their own accord, and her thoughts drifted back to Aurora and Mulan.

Guilt twisted in her stomach.

They _could_ have gone back for their two friends. That had always been a possibility, even if it hadn't seemed like it at the time. The threat Cora posed was enough to cloud their thoughts, to force all their attention and all their planning on defeating her, and had left little room to consider the princess and her warrior friend, but…

They _could_ have gone back for them. It would have been possible. They could have retraced their steps back to the palace, back to Rumpelstiltskin's cell. Aurora and Mulan probably would not have been there, however, because as soon as Mulan made it back and returned the princess' heart, the two of them would have left. Why stick around in a dungeon cell if they thought no one was coming for them?

How long would it have taken to find their friends? How much of a delay would it have been, how many extra days would Cora have had in this town?

Cora had only been here three days, and already things were so much different.

_What would the town look like_, Mary Margaret wondered, _if I had arrived even a few days later_?

Was that a justification for their actions, or just an excuse to make herself feel better about leaving Aurora and Mulan behind?

She sighed, and rubbed at her eyes.

And then she caught sight of the bulletin board.

It was covered with the faces of the missing, of friends and family who hadn't found each other yet. She frowned as she stepped closer, wondering at that. She'd been gone for a few weeks – how could people still be missing? How long did it take to find someone in a town that no one could leave without losing their memories?

She studied the sketches papered over one another, and wondered if perhaps those who had found their loved ones simply hadn't taken the pictures down. But there were so _many_ of them.

Frowning, she reached up to trace her finger over the name below one drawing. She didn't recognize most of these people. And while it was true that she had not known every single person in her kingdom – that would have been impossible – she had known a lot of them. Her responsibilities as their leader had led her to interact with the townsfolk quite frequently, and her days as a fugitive hiding among the peasants had introduced her to even more.

She chewed her lip as her brows furrowed together in confusion and then horrified realization.

Regina had cursed far more than just her kingdom.

But… _why_?

Regina's anger had always been directed solely towards Snow White. Why would she bother taking people from kingdoms she'd never been to, places she'd never visited?

Had she snatched people from other _worlds_ as well?

Mary Margaret spun around, her gaze sweeping over the few people on the sidewalk. Most of them paid no attention to her – they didn't know her, didn't recognize her. She was just another lost soul standing at the bulletin board looking for her family. She was nothing to them…

And they had no reason to follow her.

Mary Margaret exhaled slowly. She hadn't thought about this while trapped in her now-destroyed homeland, too preoccupied by questions of survival. Some part of her had assumed she would be returning to a town filled her friends, her family, her people, her allies. But that was obviously not the case.

So what now?

She did not have the advantage that she had expected, but she still had allies. Friends. And one of them was currently locked away in jail.

She needed to speak to Ruby, needed to makes sure the other woman was alright.

With that thought in mind, she started towards the sheriff's station.

* * *

She hadn't expected the flood of memories to hit her quite so hard.

Mary Margaret paused outside the station, staring up at the building. It had meant little to her for the first twenty-eight years of the curse, but then it had been her own prison during Katherine's murder investigation, and Emma's office during the last several months.

Emma.

The fear that washed over her – fear that she would never see her daughter again, that their brief reconciliation was all she would ever get – was nearly paralyzing. She _needed_ Emma back.

She closed her eyes, and a memory swam up from the depths of her mind. She was locked in prison, trapped in a cell, investigated for a murder she did not commit, but Emma was standing before her promising that everything was going to be alright, that she would figure this out, that Mary Margaret just needed to trust her, to give her time.

She opened her eyes.

"Everything's going to be okay, Emma," she murmured, wishing her daughter was standing before her, wishing that somehow Emma could hear her words, "I'm going to find you. I promise."

Then she squared her shoulders and marched into the building.

And nearly ran straight into Charles Herman.

He froze, gaping at her in complete surprise, but then a genuine smile graced his features and he dragged her into a hug that was out of character for his usually more reserved self.

"Snow. You're back."

"It's good to see you, too," she said, returning the hug with a smile of her own. "How are Ella and Thomas?"

"They insist on going by Ashley and Sean," Charles replied, a hint of displeasure creeping into his voice, "but other than that they are doing fine."

Mary Margaret nodded her head. She could perfectly understand why the two did not want to revert back to their old names – like Mary Margaret, they were young enough to have spent as much time under the curse as before it, and they were different people now than they had been before Regina's revenge. Far too much had changed, and they simply couldn't go back to the way it had been before.

Mary Margaret wondered vaguely if Charles accepted that.

"What are you doing here?" Charles asked finally. A smile played around the corners of his lips, "Shouldn't you be reuniting with James?"

_David_, Mary Margaret corrected silently, but aloud she said, "I'm working on it," and didn't offer any more explanation. Instead, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

Charles grimaced. "Leah, Stefan, and I have had a disagreement over Miss Lucas' trial," he said sourly, "and I am trying to… straighten it out."

Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Sir Maurice was a noble in my land," Charles explained. "I would like to oversee the trial as is the custom in my kingdom."

"You can't possibly believe that Ruby murdered someone," Mary Margaret protested.

"The evidence certainly suggests that she did," Charles replied grimly. "However, I have no intention of passing judgment without allowing her to speak in her defense first. If she is innocent, it will come to light at the trial."

He said it with such confidence, as though it was inconceivable that Ruby could be wrongly convicted.

Mary Margaret gritted her teeth. "I need to talk to Ruby," she said.

Charles shook his head. "Snow, please don't do this," he said quietly, sympathetically. She gave him a quizzical stare, and he pressed on, "Don't try to push through your own agenda. I know you believe the best of Miss Lucas because she is your friend. But this is a murder investigation, and we must follow the law."

"I don't have time for this," Mary Margaret retorted angrily, ignoring the logic in his words. "_Emma_ doesn't have time for this. I need my entire council together if I am to find a way back to her."

"What happened to Sheriff Swan?" Charles questioned immediately, surprise and concern mixing in his tone.

"She didn't make it back," Mary Margaret answered, fighting back the swell of emotion brought on by those five words. "She's stuck in our world, Charles, and it isn't the same as it used to be. The ogres are back and everything has been destroyed. She's alone, and she just… she doesn't know that place."

"The ogres are back?"

Mary Margaret nodded curtly, and bit back the groan of frustration that threatened to break loose. Her daughter was trapped in a destroyed land and yet it was the return of the ogres that caught Charles attention, as though that was somehow more important.

Of course, realistically Charles barely knew Emma, and yet had seen first had how much devastation the ogres could cause. They had all lost people they cared about in the most recent ogre war, which had been a brutal and hard-fought campaign during her father's reign. To have all those sacrifices go to waste now was unthinkable.

"I need to talk to Ruby," Mary Margaret said again.

"Snow… I know you mean well, but you aren't thinking clearly right now," Charles protested, his tone slightly patronizing.

Mary Margaret stiffened. "What do you mean?" she challenged, raising her chin.

"Miss Lucas has been accused of murder. You need to understand that, need to accept it." He glanced behind him towards the main office, towards the cells where Ruby was no doubt be kept prisoner. "We can't let her go simply because she is your friend."

"She's being framed. _Again_."

"If that is the case, then I have no doubt that she will be cleared. _Again_."

Mary Margaret let out a breath, feeling the situation slipping away from her. Charles wouldn't listen to her, wouldn't listen to reason – she could see that by the tension in his jaw and the firm set of his shoulders. He was polite, sympathetic, even genuinely warm at times… but he would not cave on this.

She looked away, gathering her thoughts.

"Then I should be the one in charge of overseeing the trial," she said finally.

Charles gave her a skeptical look.

"Ruby was a member of my kingdom," Mary Margaret pressed onwards. "It is my responsibility to uphold law and order in my kingdom, and to punish those who break the laws."

"Sir Maurice was a member of my kingdom," Charles replied softly, but in a tone underlined with steel.

"Did you know him?" Mary Margaret demanded.

"Not well, no," Charles admitted, looking slightly ashamed at having to say that. Sir Maurice had been a noble in his kingdom, and the fact that Charles had not known him well could only mean that he had never bothered to invite the other man to court.

"Well, I know Ruby, and…"

"And that is exactly why you should not be overseeing the trial," Charles interrupted. "You will be biased in her favor. Whoever oversees this needs to be completely impartial – and I am." Mary Margaret opened her mouth to argue the point, but he held up his hand to quickly forestall her protest and said, "If the ogres have really moved back into our lands, then that is all the more reason that you cannot be a part of this."

"I… _what_?" Mary Margaret demanded, baffled. How did that make sense? How were the two events even remotely related?

"It seems unlikely that we will be able to return home any time soon," Charles said, and Mary Margaret could not argue with that statement. Even if they had the magic required to go back there, what would they be returning to? There was nothing left for them anymore.

Her heart clenched at the thought. She had been Mary Margaret for a long time – but she'd been Snow White, too, and the Enchanted Forest and the Summer Palace were her home just as much as Storybrooke was. But Regina's curse had destroyed all that, had not only separated her from her loved ones, but also cost her the place she had been born, the place she had lived as a child, the place she had met her true love and been married and had a child of her own.

Charles continued, "We can't leave Storybrooke, either. And in that case, we need to learn how to live together in this town. All of us, all of our separate kingdoms. It is going to be complicated and challenging, and the only way we can possibly hope to build something stable and long-lasting is if we do it together. We have to put the needs of the many above the desires of the one."

"Sacrificing Ruby isn't the right thing to do," Mary Margaret argued passionately, unable to believe what Charles was suggesting. "How can we hope to build anything good if we build it on innocent lives?"

Charles heaved a sigh and shook his head. "That is not what I am saying. Of course we should not sacrifice Miss Lucas if she is innocent. But we have to have a fair and unbiased trial. No matter what we personally believe, or what we want to happen. We are royalty, Snow, and we need to set an example for everyone else. Our grasp on order in this town is too tenuous to risk any show of favoritism. People must be able to have faith in us."

Mary Margaret chewed her lip, then nodded reluctantly. "I agree with that," she said hesitantly, "but why do you think my overseeing the trial would be a problem?"

"If Miss Lucas is found innocent, you would be accused of bias in her favor," Charles replied. "People might claim that you refused to admit all the evidence into the trial, or put some other stumbling block before the prosecution. You are too close to this case, Snow. You are too close to the defendant."

"But that's ridiculous!" Mary Margaret practically cried, throwing her hands into the air. "How could anyone think that?"

"Well… isn't that what Prince James has been doing for the past weeks?"

Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes at the insult against her true love. "What do you mean?" she growled, her voice low and dangerous. Whatever lies had been spread about David, she would not stand for them. And she certainly would not accept them from an ally, from the father of a beloved friend.

Charles gazed at her for a long moment, scrutinizing her expression. "You don't even see it, do you?" he scoffed. "Perhaps Leah and Stefan were right."

"Right about what?" Mary Margaret demanded, irritated. She didn't bother to hide the scorn or the accusation in her tone - if Charles was going to insult her, she was going to drop all pretense of civility as well.

"Rumpelstiltskin and the Evil Queen!" Charles shot back, eyes narrowing in response to her tone. "They wander around freely, as though they don't deserve to be punished for what they have done. Why is Regina allowed her freedom after she cursed all of us, after she stole our memories and our identities? How many lives has Rumpelstiltskin ruined, how many people has he harmed – including _my own son_ – and yet he doesn't deserve the consequences of that?"

"I…"

Charles continued, cutting over her, "James held this town together – but only barely. He made a great speech at the town line about why we should all stay in Storybrooke, and people were willing to follow him. People who had never met him, people who didn't have any idea who he was _now_ or who he had been _before_. He had a chance to lead, to give us strength and peace, but instead of actually leading, he worked with our enemies and spent all his time focused on you. He even went so far as to put himself into an enchanted sleep making him physically incapable of helping any of _us_ in order to get to _you_."

"I'm his _wife_," Mary Margaret argued. "You can't have expected him to just abandon me?"

"Of course not," Charles replied coolly. "But he could have tried to do both. He didn't. The only time he bothered to focus on anything besides _you_ was when he was helping _Miss Lucas_. He had the opportunity to help the rest of the town – and he _didn't_ take it! But now that Miss Lucas is in trouble you want to help again? How do you think that is going to look to everyone else?"

"I… that's not… Charles, you're twisting everything," Mary Margaret countered weakly, shaking her head.

"I'm not," Charles answered flatly, "and even if I was, it wouldn't _matter_. Because this is how it is going to be viewed; this is what everyone is going to think."

"But… Emma…"

Charles hesitated, then said quietly, "Snow, I will help you get your daughter back in any way I can – except this. I need to do what is right for the town and the people who live here. I'm sorry… but Miss Lucas has been accused of murder, and I intend for the trial to be fair and just and completely free of any bias, perceived or real."

It was an olive branch, and far more than Mary Margaret would get from Leah or Stefan, but it wasn't enough for her. Charles might be an ally, Ashley might be a close friend, and they both deserved her patience and her understanding… but it _couldn't_ be enough for her, not with Emma still trapped in another world.

She turned and stormed out of the sheriff's station.

On the sidewalk, she got Regina's call.

* * *

Mary Margaret passed through the barrier without any trouble. The front door to the mayor's mansion was already open, and she rushed up the walk and into the house without pause.

Henry was waiting for her.

She stopped, the breath catching in her throat. His eyes were bright, and a tentative smile played across his features when he saw her, but underneath it all was a sadness, a pain. A loss.

She wrapped her arms around him without hesitation. "I'm so sorry, Henry," she whispered. "But we're going to get Emma back. I _promise_."

"I know," he sniffled, but she heard the shakiness in his voice. His usual firm belief in good always defeating evil – the belief that he had clung to throughout the curse when no one actually believed him – was gone, replaced by doubt. That loss had changed him somehow, and just hugging him felt different.

She looked up as Regina entered the hallway.

Really _looked_.

She'd missed it on the dock. Perhaps it had been lost in the chaos, or perhaps hidden by the darkness of the night. Or maybe she had seen it and simply hadn't paid attention, too worried about Emma to notice anything else.

Regina looked beaten, frayed. As though she was slowly coming apart around the edges.

Her skin was pale, bloodless, and there were dark shadows underneath her eyes. She rested one hand against the wall, and though it was done casually, Mary Margaret could tell by the slight tremor of the other woman's shoulders that Regina needed the support to stay upright.

If Regina noticed Mary Margaret's scrutiny, she did not comment on it. Instead, she said flatly, unemotionally, "Henry, why don't you take Miss Blanchard upstairs?"

Henry nodded, and pulled Mary Margaret towards the stairs. He took them two at a time, nearly tripping over himself in his haste. Mary Margaret half-expected Regina to admonish him, remind him not to run indoors, but she didn't.

At the top of the stairs, Mary Margaret paused and looked down at Regina. Regina wasn't looking at her, but was instead leaning against the wall with her eyes closed and her shoulders hunched. It was a posture of resignation, and Mary Margaret could not remember ever seeing that on her step-mother in the past.

"Come on," Henry said eagerly, pushing open the door to the guest bedroom.

Mary Margaret turned away from Regina and walked into the room.

David was lying on the bed.

Thoughts of Regina and Charles and Leah and Ruby and even Emma fled from her mind as she dropped to her knees at his side. He looked so peaceful, as though he was merely sleeping, but she knew behind his closed lids he was trapped in that nightmare.

"I found you," she whispered. "I'll always find you."

Storybrooke might no longer be the place she thought it was, and their previous land might now be nothing more than ruins, but in that moment it didn't really matter, because _David_ was her home.

She leaned over and pressed her lips against his.

The warmth rushed through her, the familiar thrill of magic and love that made her stomach flip and her heart leap into her throat, and then David was kissing her back, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her onto the bed towards him. They stayed that way, locked in an embrace and a kiss, taking solace in the fact that they were finally reconciled once more.

After a moment, David pushed back and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reaching out to ruffle Henry's hair. Then he turned back to Mary Margaret. "You… you did it."

Mary Margaret smiled. "Did you ever doubt I would?"

David shook his head. "No… though, the burning red room did give me pause."

Mary Margaret laughed softly as David hugged her tightly again, but the laughter died abruptly when David released her, looked around, and asked, "Where's Emma?"


	17. Family

Chapter Seventeen: Family

The question lingered in the silence.

David's expression – so frank, so earnest, so oblivious to what Mary Margaret was about to say – stalled her voice. It was hard enough to think the answer, but to actually say it? To put into words her own failure, to acknowledge the truth that would wipe the look of anticipation and excitement from her husband's face? How could she do that to him?

She swallowed and lowered her gaze.

"Mary Margaret?" David pressed in concern, his voice softer, quieter. His fingers came to rest on her chin, tilting her face upwards, and they locked gazes. His eyes darted upwards, to the cut on her forehead, and he traced it, his finger running gently over the wound.

But his eyes settled back on Mary Margaret's gaze, and he waited.

"She didn't make it through the portal," Mary Margaret said, tears burning in her eyes. She blinked, then brushed them away angrily. Now was not the time to cry. Tears would not bring her daughter back.

"I… she… _what_?"

Mary Margaret pulled away from him and stood up. "Something happened. A… a storm. Emma was knocked overboard. We both were. But I was pulled into the portal, and it closed before Emma could reach it."

She started pacing. Henry stepped backwards, scurrying out of her way, while David slowly rose to his feet.

"Overboard? You were on a _ship_?" he asked, bewildered.

His confusion – and the fact that he clearly did not, _could not_, know much of the story only vaguely registered with Mary Margaret. She paused in her pacing just long enough to nod at him, then said, "We were still close to some of the islands, though. She must have made it back to one of them. She _must_ have."

Her words were strong, emphatic, and the fact that David was only barely following them did not matter, because she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

She was supposed to protect her daughter, and she'd failed.

She stopped her pacing once more and looked up at the ceiling, still blinking back tears. "We'll get her back," she said again.

"Of course we will," David agreed simply, coming to her side and grasping her shoulders. She tilted her head to the side, studying the expression on his face – the determination, and the utter belief that they would triumph in the end. He smiled wanly. "Is she with the other princess? Um… Aurora?"

"No…" Mary Margaret sighed. "We were separated from Aurora and Mulan. Emma's alone." She glanced to the side, aware of Henry's presence hovering in the background. She wanted to say something reassuring, but couldn't think of the right words. She had already promised that they would get Emma back – and they would. One way or another, she was going to find her daughter.

She just didn't know how.

David looked between her and Henry, then asked, "Is Emma near our kingdom? Is there anyone she can go to for help?"

Mary Margaret felt her lips curl into a sardonic smile and said with a bitterness she didn't realize she possessed, "It wouldn't matter where she was. There's nothing left there. Our home is destroyed, David." She paused, then added, "And the ogres are back."

To his credit, David managed to keep his expression fairly neutral as he asked, "So Regina's curse destroyed the land, too?"

Mary Margaret shrugged tiredly. "I guess." She looked down at Henry. "Come on, let's go downstairs. I need to talk to Regina."

David looked around and frowned, as though for the first time realizing that he was in Regina's house. He squinted, scanning the room suspiciously, before turning to Mary Margaret with raised eyebrows.

But it was Henry who answered the unspoken question.

"My mom put a… a force-field… around the house. To keep her mother out," the boy explained. "Only a few of us can enter or leave. I asked her to bring you here, to keep you safe."

David nodded slowly, but if he wondered why Regina had agreed to that request, he didn't mention it. Instead, he looked over at his wife and asked, "Regina's mother made it through the portal?"

Mary Margaret chewed her lip. "She defeated us," she whispered. "I… we couldn't stop her. We had to find another way. It delayed our return for three days."

"But you made it back," David said, taking her hands in his own. "You made it back to me, and we'll get Emma back, too."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs caused Mary Margaret to pull away from David and turn towards the door. David's hands slipped off of hers, but came to rest on her back, and she was absurdly grateful for his touch. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of her shirt, and it gave her a support, a confidence, that she hadn't felt in a very long time.

She straightened her back, standing up taller, just as Regina stepped into the room.

And was struck, once again, by how tired Regina looked.

"Regina," David said.

Regina's lips flattened into a thin line. "You're awake," she said, her tone carefully neutral.

"Yes," David agreed.

There was an awkward silence.

Mary Margaret cleared her throat. "We need to talk," she said.

Regina smiled coolly, but to Mary Margaret's surprise, she simply nodded in acceptance. Her eyes moved to Henry, and her expression melted into something softer as she said, "Henry, why don't you go downstairs and get started on your homework? We will be down in a moment."

Henry jutted his chin out stubbornly. "I want to hear whatever you have to say about Emma," he retorted, suspicion flashing in his eyes.

Regina hesitated, then said, "We will be down in a moment, and you can hear everything then. I promise that we will tell you what we can."

"If you're just going to tell me everything later, why do I need to leave now?" Henry grumbled petulantly.

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to say something – to agree that Emma was Henry's mother and Henry had a right to know – but Regina sent her a look that made her bite her tongue. It wasn't so much the anger in Regina's gaze, though there was plenty of that; but rather it was the worry that gave Mary Margaret pause.

David apparently missed the exchange, because he started to argue, but Mary Margaret caught his hand quickly and gave it a squeeze. He slanted a puzzled look at her, but bit his tongue.

"Henry, please," Regina continued.

Henry huffed. "You haven't let me go to school since your mother came through the portal, but I still have to do all the homework?"

"Yes," Regina said.

At the same time that Mary Margaret asked in surprise, "You haven't been to school?" Regina was a lot of things – but she had always valued education. Mary Margaret could not remember the last time Regina had allowed her son to miss school for any reason other than being sick.

"It wasn't safe," Regina answered in a clipped tone.

Mary Margaret nodded. _That_, at least, she could perfectly believe. With Cora here…

She shuddered.

Henry gave Mary Margaret a pleading look, perhaps expecting her to intercede on his behalf, but she just gave him a sympathetic smile and silence.

He scowled, and stalked out of the room.

Regina stepped into the hallway to watch him walk down the stairs, and once he was out of sight she reentered the bedroom with a grim expression and closed the door.

Looking straight at Mary Margaret, she asked bluntly, "What are the chances that Miss Swan is still alive?" Mary Margaret's breath caught in her throat and David stiffened angrily. But Regina held up a hand with the same regal poise that she had possessed as queen, and added, "I need you to answer this question rationally and not emotionally, Miss Blanchard. What are the chances that Miss Swan is still alive?"

"We _will_ find her and get her back," David growled angrily, but Regina didn't even look at him. Her gaze was locked on Mary Margaret, her eyes boring into the other woman with an intensity that was in stark contrast to the weariness in the lines of her face.

Mary Margaret let out a breath. At least she understood now why Regina had asked Henry to leave the room for this part of the conversation.

"We were close to some islands when the storm hit," Mary Margaret said. "If Emma made it to the island, she is at least still alive now." She thought for a moment, then added, "She might even be safest on the island. Ogres can't swim."

Regina pursed her lips. "And… do you think she _did_ make it to an island?"

"_Yes_," Mary Margaret said emphatically. She couldn't explain _how_ she knew this, but she _absolutely_ knew it. Her daughter was still alive.

Regina studied her expression for a long moment, then turned to David and said, "I have no doubt that you and Miss Blanchard will do everything in your power to retrieve Miss Swan. But that does not actually mean that you will be successful."

"Is that a threat?" David hissed.

Regina rolled her eyes, but the weariness in her expression took some of the sting of condescension out of the gesture. "Of course not. I intend to help you, not hinder you. But I am merely pointing out a fact." Her gaze flicked towards the closed door and she added softly, "Good doesn't always win, David. That is a lesson that my son had to learn the hard way. I'd rather not make it worse for him by pretending that everything is going to be alright now."

"A little hope is better than none," Mary Margaret countered.

Regina laughed hollowly, a dark look passing through her eyes as though she was remembering something from long ago. "And false hope, once it is revealed as false, hurts all the more for it." She sighed heavily. "Of course I believe we should tell Henry that we are doing everything in our power to find Miss Swan. Of course I believe that we should provide reassurances for him… within reason. I am merely asking that you temper your… optimism… with a dose of reality."

The formality of the words was not lost on Mary Margaret. Regina had always used decorum as a shield, a protection against emotion, and she was obviously trying to disguise her own fear. She did not want to hurt Henry.

"It isn't false hope," David snapped. "We _will_ get Emma back."

Regina exhaled slowly, and didn't answer.

Mary Margaret broke the standoff by pulling away from David and heading towards the door. She knew the others would follow her, and while she wasn't sure how much of this conversation to have in front of Henry, she knew it was a good idea to seek out his presence now. Having Henry in the room would keep everyone civil, and she could feel the tension starting to build in the air.

David hurried after her.

On the stairs, he asked, "Have you seen anyone since you've been back? Leroy? Ruby?"

From behind them, Mary Margaret heard Regina's soft chuckle, and the older woman commented dryly, "So you haven't told him yet?"

"Told me what?" David asked, catching Mary Margaret's arm and stopping her. "What else is going on?"

Regina stepped passed the two of them and descended onto the main floor while Mary Margaret tried to put into words everything that had gone wrong in the town.

* * *

Regina found Henry sitting at the kitchen table. He looked up hopefully when she entered, but his eyes clouded over when he saw it was just her.

She wondered vaguely how many more times his reaction could catch her by surprise, how many more times it could hurt.

She sat down across from him.

"Where are David and Mary Margaret?" he asked, giving the closed door a puzzled look.

"I believe they are discussing the most recent events in Storybrooke," Regina said.

She watched Henry closely, studying his expression and wondering whether or not she could risk asking her question. The suspicion that had flared this morning was mostly gone, though he was clearly still annoyed at her for forcing him out of the conversation moments before.

She looked towards the door. She didn't know how much time she would have with Henry in the future. Although she could make a logical argument for why Henry should stay with her until Cora had been dealt with, she wasn't sure that either Mary Margaret or David would buy it.

They weren't exactly known for being logical.

And even if they did believe her, even if they did accept her reasoning, would they insist on staying here as well, imposing themselves on her life and her hospitality? They were certainly meddlesome enough to do it.

She closed her eyes for a moment. She wanted to ask this question later, when Emma's absence wasn't looming over them quite so forcefully, but she also didn't want to involve Mary Margaret or David in what would likely be a personal quest for answers.

She opened her eyes and took her chances.

"Henry, what was on the final pages of your book? The pages you tore out?"

Henry started, then narrowed his eyes and asked suspiciously, "Why?"

She knew she had to tread delicately. She had put him off the last time he'd wondered why the book was so biased against her, and she desperately needed to keep him disinterested. If he did anything stupid or reckless in his pursuit of answers…

"Well, I wondered if perhaps the book said anything about my mother," Regina lied. "About how she and Captain Hook – and Aurora and Mulan – escaped the curse. It could help us."

Henry considered this, still giving her a distrustful look, but finally seemed to relent. He shook his head, and said, "It didn't say anything about her."

"Are you sure?"

Henry nodded, a far away look in his eyes. "It was just about how to break your curse."

Regina raised an eyebrow. _That_ she had not been expecting. The book had told Henry how to _break_ the curse?

Before she could ask anything else, David stormed into the room, followed by Mary Margaret. It was clear that they were both angry, but David's anger was louder and more vibrant. He was pacing, his eyes narrowed and his lips bared into a snarl.

"So I take it you told him about Leah and Stefan and Miss Lucas?" Regina commented.

"And Charles," David snapped. "I can't believe _Charles_ of all people…"

Regina leaned back in her seat. She had no idea how Charles figured into this, but she was surprised that he would have done anything to so anger David. He had always been quite fond of Snow and her Charming.

Mary Margaret laid a hand on his arm, and David paused in his pacing and gave her a tight smile that did not reach his eyes.

"We have to do something," he growled.

"I already _tried_, David," Mary Margaret countered softly, reasonably. "They aren't going to listen to us. We need to come up with a new plan – a different plan."

Regina pursed her lips. In the past, Snow's only truly successful major plan had involved an all-out war, and that was not guaranteed to work this time around. Besides, war would be viewed quite differently in this land than it had been in their past home, and the consequences of a battle might be more than Mary Margaret could handle.

Mary Margaret rubbed at her eyes, a frown furrowing her brow. "If only we could get them to see reason…"

Regina bit back a sarcastic remark. As far as she was concerned, Stefan and Leah were not the only ones unable to see reason in this situation.

She stood up.

The dizziness hit her quite suddenly, and she swayed ever so slightly on her feet. One hand reached down, fingertips skimming the surface of the table to steady her, while she slid the other hand onto the back of the chair to keep herself upright.

Her movements were quick, subtle. David and Henry did not notice her short-lived vertigo.

But Mary Margaret did. Her eyes narrowed on Regina for a moment, and Regina staved off the inevitable question by remarking swiftly, "I doubt you can get Leah or Stefan to see reason, so you will need to come up with a different idea."

"I've got one," David suggested dryly, his tone clearly conveying _exactly_ what he wanted to do to the people who stood between him and Ruby.

"Diplomacy is preferable to physical force," Mary Margaret admonished quietly, though she looked far from convinced. She lifted a hand to brush away a few strands of hair, and her fingers ghosted over the gash on her forehead.

She winced.

_Diplomacy is easier when you are everyone's beloved princess_, Regina thought bitterly, but she did not say the words aloud. She doubted they would be well-received, but Mary Margaret and David would learn the hard truth soon enough. She might have been the adored, caring, _perfect_ princess of the past, but this wasn't the Enchanted Forest and nothing was quite so black and white here.

Cora would see to that.

A thin smile curled Regina's lips. Some part of her desperately wanted to be there to see Mary Margaret fall from the pedestal she'd been place on in the past.

Mary Margaret turned her attention back to Regina and asked, "How many kingdoms did you curse?"

Regina raised an eyebrow at the question, but answered readily enough, "The curse took everyone in your kingdom, as well as any kingdom that had allied with you. I also cursed the kingdoms of the people who had remained neutral during our war, provided that I had asked them for help and they had refused." She ticked the names off on her fingers, "You, Midas, and Charles fall into the first category. Leah and Stefan and Thomas and Primrose fall into the second category."

"Thomas and Primrose?" Henry asked eagerly.

"Rapunzel's parents," Regina answered, knowing he would at least recognize that name, even if he knew nothing of the true story of the locked-away princess. She looked back at Mary Margaret. "I also took the two orders of magical beings you were friendly with – the dwarves and the fairies. I took Ariel as well, though she was already human, so perhaps she doesn't count as magical."

She said it all simply, matter-of-factly, but she could see the dismay and disgust on Mary Margaret's face at the number of people she'd cursed. She didn't want the younger woman's expression to bother her, and yet somehow it did, and she found herself averting her gaze.

Angry at her own weakness, she added spitefully, "From other lands I took people who had failed me in specific ways."

"Such as?" Mary Margaret prompted.

Regina thought of Whale, but had no desire to talk about that.

Instead, she said simply, "Jefferson," then added, "Maleficent."

Mary Margaret studied Regina for a moment, then asked pointedly, "But you didn't curse Captain Hook? He failed you, didn't he?"

Regina hesitated. Hook most of told Mary Margaret and Emma the full story about their first meeting, and Mary Margaret was obviously hoping for some answer that would show her in a better light, that would explain why she had attempted matricide.

She bristled, and found herself replying coldly, "I didn't know he had failed me until Henry told me that my mother was still alive. It was unexpected."

She felt supreme satisfaction at the way Mary Margaret flinched.

David put the pieces together quickly, and looked between his wife and Regina. Finally, he demanded in an aghast tone, "You sent someone to kill your own mother?"

Regina opened her mouth to answer, intending something scathing and derisive, when she heard Henry's surprised inhale and caught sight of his eyes trained on her in disbelief.

She had forgotten he was listening.

"It's… complicated," she said softly, skirting the issue quickly. To Mary Margaret, she added, "And I am not the one who arranged for Hook to stay behind. I have a feeling my mother did that." She stepped away from the chair that she was still using as a support and added, "The only person I deliberately wanted to leave behind was Cora."

"So why didn't you just _not_ curse her?" David asked skeptically.

Regina sighed inwardly. People who did not use magic thought it was so simple, so easy, to manipulate. But it wasn't, and the curse was even more challenging than most. It had played on her emotions, and instead of being able to make it take specific people, she had merely been able to make it take groups of people towards whom she felt certain emotions. Anyone she disliked, anyone she blamed for her fall, anyone who had failed her or betrayed her… anyone who had hurt her.

Unfortunately, her mother fell into several of those categories, and the only way Regina had thought she could keep her mother out of the curse – and therefore out of her happy ending – was to kill her.

She didn't say any of that aloud. David was too thick-witted to understand.

Mary Margaret, perhaps realizing that her silence meant she would not answer the question, said to David, "It is a lot of different kingdoms, a lot of different cultures and traditions. I don't know how we're going to unite everyone."

"You're _not_ going to unite everyone," Regina answered flatly. "It's pointless to even try. The most you can hope for is to avoid an all-out war."

David glared at her. "We can do more than that."

Regina rolled her eyes.

"Alright, let's first focus on how we're going to find Emma," Mary Margaret said, once again stepping in to play the peacekeeper.

David nodded, and the eager look on Henry's face was enough to force Regina to reluctantly acquiesce.

"Cora's probably looking for her, too," Mary Margaret said, "so we need to move quickly."

"But Emma's back in your land," Henry protested, confused. "How can Cora be looking for her? How can Cora do anything to her when they're in different lands?"

_That_, Regina knew, was a very good question.

"I don't know," Mary Margaret admitted, resting her gaze on Henry for only a moment before she turned to Regina again, "but I am sure that she caused the storm. It was magical – I could feel something different about it. Something strong, powerful… dangerous. Almost… angry."

"The wind was angry?" Regina mocked, though she silently had to agree with Mary Margaret's assumption. One way or another, Cora had played a role in preventing Emma's return.

David sent her another glare, but Mary Margaret ignored her comment and continued, "And earlier we felt as though we were being watched."

"Watched?" David echoed.

"Yes. Everything was too still, too quiet." Mary Margaret addressed her next question to Regina, "Can you think of a way your mother could have magically spied on us?"

Regina froze, the realization coming to her, accompanied by a sinking heart. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to come up with a logical argument for why she couldn't pursue this idea, why it would never work, why it was hopeless.

Nothing came to her.

She straightened, ignoring the ache that was continuing to grow behind her eyes. "Take Henry for the day," she said curtly, her attention focused on Mary Margaret. "And _do not_ let him out of your sight. I need to pursue a… possibility."

"Where are you going?"

Regina gritted her teeth. "To visit an old… friend."

* * *

Conversations with Henry had never been difficult.

Before the curse had broken, Henry had been lonely and distant, but Mary Margaret had always managed to coax a smile from him, even if the smiles were only half-hearted. He'd hung on her every word in class, but she hadn't given his actions that much thought because it wasn't unusual for children to like their teachers in elementary school. Sullen behavior generally didn't hit until middle school, and Henry had yet to reach his teenage years.

Looking back on it now, though, she knew that he didn't like her because she was his teacher; he liked her because she was a fairytale heroine.

And that had always made conversations easy, even during the year when she _didn't_ believe him.

Something had changed.

Henry sat perched on the edge of the stairs in the apartment. He had been unusually quiet on the ride over, and though he had stayed physically close to Mary Margaret since leaving Regina's house, his lack of chatter made him seem distant.

Mary Margaret sat down next to him.

"We're going to get Emma back," she offered. It was the same promise that she kept making – to herself, to David, to Henry, to anyone who asked – and she firmly believed it. But she also remembered the hollowness in Regina's eyes when she spoke of false hope, and something inside of her twisted painfully at all the possibilities that she did not want to consider.

It was unthinkable that Emma wouldn't return.

It was unthinkable that Henry would never get his mother back.

Henry offered a faint smile. "I know," he said, but his voice shook. He looked down, and started fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His shoulders were hunched over, his body language radiating anxiety and... defeat?

"How have things been?" Mary Margaret pressed. "I mean… since Emma and I went through the hat?"

Henry shrugged moodily. "Alright, I guess. I've missed you. I miss Emma."

"Did you get to spend time with David?"

"Yeah," Henry said, an actual smile breaking through his gloomy expression for a moment. "He took me to the stables so I could get used to the horses, and promised to teach me to ride. And he taught me some sword-fighting." He tilted his head up and looked at Mary Margaret. "I liked staying with him."

"You stayed with David?" Mary Margaret asked, surprised. She hadn't expected Regina to let go of Henry so quickly, and wondered what David had done to force the older woman's hand.

"Uh huh," Henry said. "My mom let me go after you and Emma went through the portal. But I had to move back in after Cora came because it was safer." He chewed his lip, then said in a quiet voice, "I think my mom is really worried that Cora will go after me the way she went after Daniel."

Mary Margaret started at the admission. "You know about Daniel?" she asked.

"A little," Henry replied. "My mom doesn't like talking about him. She got mad at Archie because he told me about Daniel dying."

"_Archie_ told you?" Mary Margaret frowned. How did Archie even _know_?

"Sort of. I mean, Mom told Ruby – they were yelling at each other after Cora came through the portal, and Ruby didn't trust her, but Mom said that she needed to keep me away from Cora because Cora had…" He stopped abruptly, and flicked his gaze away quickly before looking back at Mary Margaret and saying in a rush, "Cora had ripped out Daniel's heart and crushed it in front of my mom."

Henry was looking at Mary Margaret with a questioning gaze, as though waiting for her to confirm or deny this story. It was clear from the tone of his voice that he already believed it to be true - completely and without reservation - but he desperately wanted it to be a lie.

Mary Margaret had no idea _why_ he wanted it all to be false, but it _wasn't_ - so she nodded slowly.

Henry sighed, downcast, and continued, "And then I met Daniel, and after…"

"Wait, you _what_?" Mary Margaret interrupted, trying to put together the pieces of this very bizarre story. How was it possible that Henry had _met_ Daniel when the stable hand had died years earlier in a different land?

"I think Whale brought him back to life," Henry explained, scrunching his face into a thoughtful expression. "I mean, no one really said anything about that, but I heard Mom and David talking about it after he tried to hurt me."

"Dr. Whale brought Daniel back from the dead and he attacked you?" Mary Margaret demanded incredulously. What had happened to this town while she had been gone?

"Uh huh. 'Cause he's Frankenstein… I think. I mean… he's not in the book, so I'm not sure, but…" Henry trailed off, a dark expression passing over his features, and he lowered his gaze once more.

Something about the book was upsetting him, but Mary Margaret wasn't sure what it was, and the entire conversation was leaving her so bewildered that she didn't know how to proceed.

"I just want Emma back," Henry said finally.

"I do, too," Mary Margaret replied, wrapping her arm around Henry's shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He didn't resist, but he didn't hug her back, either.

There was a long moment of silence.

"What if we don't find a way?" Henry ventured in a barely audible whisper, as though he could only just force himself to voice the question aloud.

"We will," Mary Margaret replied emphatically, but the words sounded empty even to her own ears. How could she promise him anything when she was entertaining these same doubts herself?

During the previous year, Henry had told her on more than one occasion that she would win because Good always won. She hadn't understood what he'd meant then, but he had been so sure, so unwavering in his beliefs. It was strange to hear him voice doubts now.

This was not the boy she had known.

* * *

Regina stared at the door marked _S. Glass_.

The lock disappeared with a wave of her hand, and the door swung open slowly, revealing a room not unlike the one she had locked Belle away in during the curse, though the bed had a thicker mattress and an extra blanket. They were material comforts that she had unconsciously bestowed upon Sidney even as she tricked him into trading away his freedom for her safety.

She stepped into the room.

Sidney was sitting on the bed. He looked at her as she entered, but made no immediate move to get up or acknowledge her presence. The look in his eyes, though…

It stopped her in her tracks.

Regina didn't step any further into the room. The curse had broken weeks before, but this part of the hospital had been a secret to most, and clearly no one had thought to see if anyone was still trapped down here. Belle had escaped – Sidney had not.

She cleared her throat.

"I need your help."

Sidney laughed coldly. "Do you?" he asked, rising slowly to his feet. "I gave you my help. I gave you everything… _twice_. And what did it get me?" He gestured towards the barren room around them. "Not much."

Regina glanced around. The nurse who was in charge of this part of the hospital had been a prison guard for the Evil Queen in the past, and when the curse had broken, she had continued with her duties. There was a plate of half-eaten food by the door, and a large bottle of water next to it. Not much, but enough to keep Sidney alive.

"I'm tired of being trapped," Sidney added bitterly.

Regina pursed her lips. "You are the one who made the first wish, the one that trapped you in the mirror," she snapped back. "If you had just taken the out that I had given you, if you had simply _left_…" She shook her head. "Your decision was not my fault."

"You tricked me into killing the very man who had given me my freedom!" Sidney snarled.

"And you knew exactly what you were doing when you killed him, dear," Regina retorted pointedly, refusing to take the blame even though she knew that she was just as culpable as he was for what they had done. But she pressed on regardless, "It is not as though you did not know that those snakes were deadly."

Sidney looked away. "You preyed on my love for you," he said softly, venom lacing his words. "You let me believe that you reciprocated that love."

"If you had been at all perceptive, you would have known that I didn't," Regina answered coolly. "But you were so desperate for my love that you tricked yourself into believing that you had it." She pursed her lips. "Really, dear, you can't blame me for your own foolishness."

"So you really refuse to take any blame for what happened?" Sidney shook his head, a darkly amused smile curling his lips. "You haven't changed at all, have you, Regina? You still see yourself as the victim, as though every life you've taken, every family you've torn apart, all the pain you've caused… it was all _justified_." He stepped forward, studying her intently. "But you are still the same in other ways, aren't you? Still lonely and hurt."

"What are you…?" Regina started, but Sidney cut her off.

"You pretended to be so lonely, so miserable, married to the king," Sidney said. "But I've been around a lot of lonely people as a genie, Regina, and it's been my experience that people are only ever _that_ good at pretending to be miserable if, deep down, they _aren't_ really pretending."

Regina internally reeled from both the calculating look in his eyes and the discernment of his words, and had to force herself from taking a step back. She met his gaze, refusing to flinch, and raised an eyebrow in what she hoped was a defiant expression.

"Is that so, dear?" she drawled.

"Or was your marriage to Leopold actually _happy_?" Sidney asked.

Regina hesitated. Like her uncle, Sidney had somehow grown a backbone now that the curse had broken, and she wasn't sure how to proceed. She had not expected this version of him. She had known he would not be as in love with her as he had been while still a genie – his time trapped in the mirror had tempered his love with distrust and some anger, but that had never concerned her before because the spell keeping him trapped in the mirror had also forced him to do her bidding.

Now that he was free of the mirror, she had expected some of the distrust to remain, but she hadn't realized that his hatred would have outweighed his love this much. She had not prepared for that, had not thought through how to approach him.

Well... there had never been a need for it in the past. She had never considered the possibility that the curse could be broken, and had never considered that everyone she knew might be different once it had.

"As much fun as these reminisces are," Regina said after a pause, "Emma Swan has gotten herself trapped in our land, and I need help getting her back."

"_You_ want to help Emma?" Sidney asked disbelievingly.

"Not particularly, no. But it seems I have little choice in the matter." Regina lifted her hand and studied her fingernails, assuming a bored expression that covered the anxiety she felt. "Can you help me find her?"

"With what?" Sidney replied, shrugging. "I have no magic here." His eyes narrowed, and he added spitefully, "And I am not trapping myself in a mirror again."

"Ah, but you agree that _you_ were the one to trap yourself in the mirror the first time?" Regina questioned, unable to pass up the opportunity to press her point.

He glared at her in response.

She sighed. "I'm not asking you to become an enchanted mirror, dear," she said. "But I do imagine that, in your time as a mirror, you might have learned a few tricks. And I still have my magic. So between the two of us, I do believe it is possible that we could locate Miss Swan."

"But would you be able to communicate with her? Would you be able to bring her back through the mirror?" Sidney asked skeptically.

Regina knew that was highly unlikely. She had never mastered the magic of mirrors – with Sidney to do her bidding, she'd never needed to. That had been more her mother's domain, and had likely resulted from Cora's initial trip through the mirror to Wonderland.

Still, actually finding Emma and confirming that she was alive would be an important first step.

"How much control did you have over the curse?" Sidney asked abruptly.

Regina frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Did you get to choose what happened to each person? How they were cursed, who they became?"

Regina clicked her tongue against her teeth in annoyance at the question. For the second time in a single day, she was dealing with people's idiocy regarding magic. Why did this idea persist, why were people so convinced that magic was simple to control, that all she had to do was wave her hands or murmur a few words and the world would bend itself to do her bidding? How could they constantly fail to realize that most powerful magic such as the curse required strong emotions – and once emotions became involved, nothing was ever simple.

And Sidney did not even have the excuse of all the other fools in this town. He'd been a genie and a magic mirror and he should have understood that the curse would be far more complicated than his question implied.

But maybe he did know. Maybe he was really asking something else.

"Why do you want to know?" she questioned.

"Curiosity," he replied, studying her intently. He paused, then offered, "Answer my question, and I'll help you find Emma Swan."

Regina weighed her options. It seemed an innocuous enough question, but she was hesitant to answer it given that she didn't know why he was asking. Every instinct she had told her not to trust him – not to trust _anyone_. She'd learned the hard way what could happen if she confided in someone who then betrayed her.

On the other hand, she did need his help.

And she was doing this for Henry.

"It's powerful magic," she replied finally, "so it's would not be that... _detailed_. Besides, dear, there are hundreds of people in this town. Do you actually think I spent time planning an identity and a life for each and every one of them?"

"Then how was it decided what would happen to each person?" Sidney pressed.

Rumpelstiltskin had explained it to her once, a long time ago. Before he was locked away, before she had killed Leopold, before the magic inside of her had taken its final hold and she had crossed the line on the path of darkness. She'd been appalled when he'd told her about the curse, but he'd merely laughed it off as an academic exercise, and not something anyone would actually ever cast.

The curse was more _alive_ than most magic, and it had a mind of its own. It would create the new identities based on the lives of the victims and the emotions of the caster, but so much of it was still unpredictable.

She wasn't entirely sure how she had managed to make the curse accept her deal with Rumpelstiltskin, but she'd spent twenty-eight years having to do whatever he wanted so long as he said the word _please_, so that had obviously worked.

And none of this was anything she wanted to discuss with Sidney.

"The deal was only for one question, dear, and I already answered it," she said.

Sidney continued to study her for a long moment, as though searching for something in her expression, and Regina wondered if he was going to argue with her.

She didn't know what he was looking for, and she didn't know if he found it, but eventually he merely nodded his head and said, "Lead the way."

* * *

Sidney watched Regina exit the room, then looked around the cell one more time before following her into the hallway. He took a deep breath as soon as he stepped into the hall, savoring the feeling of freedom, and feeling a growing anticipation for what fresh air would taste like.

How long had it been since he had seen the sun?

Regina was walking briskly away from him, her heels echoing on the floor, and he turned and hurried after her, towards the exit. He had no idea what he was getting himself into, but at least the bonds of servitude were gone and he would be free to walk away at any point. He knew how much danger he was in around Regina, and he did not want to risk losing everything to her again.

He'd already fallen for that trap twice, and yet the danger still lingered. For all his efforts to distance himself from her, he had a feeling he would never quite learn the important lesson.

The problem wasn't that he hated Regina.

The problem was that, despite everything, he still loved her.


	18. Meetings

A/N: This is mostly set-up for the next chapter... at which point the action really starts up.

Chapter Eighteen: Meetings

"Obviously, the most appropriate thing to do is to divide up the land," Charles said, leaning forward and surveying the other rulers gathered around the table.

"Divide the land?" Leah repeated, pursing her lips and meeting Charles' frank gaze with a slight frown. She seemed to be considering the idea, but when she spoke, her voice was laced with doubt. "That could be… complicated. I can't imagine that people will want to relocate."

"True," Charles agreed with a polite nod in her direction even if his eyes betrayed a sense of frustration with her hesitation, "but what else can we do? How can we divide our people if not by geography?"

"Why do we need to divide anyone?" Mary Margaret demanded sharply. "People have homes, they have _lives_ here. Let them live the way they want."

"The places they call home and the lives they lead stem from a curse," Leah replied coolly, giving Mary Margaret a frosty and somewhat disdainful glare. "No one chose this – no one but Regina. Why should we force people to continue this charade?"

"So you'd rather force them to change? What if they are happy now?" Mary Margaret countered reasonably.

"What if they're _not_?"

David came quickly to Mary Margaret's defense, some of the irritation he was feeling seeping into his voice as he addressed Leah, "I think what Mary Margaret is trying to say is that we shouldn't rush into anything, and we should take our people's wishes into account. We're stuck here for now – maybe forever. Whatever plan we come up with…" he shrugged almost helplessly, "it needs to work."

"I don't believe Leah is suggesting we opt for a plan that _doesn't_ work," Midas interjected.

David bit his tongue and said nothing. He was not convinced that any of the others gathered around the table cared at all if the plan worked; they just wanted to be able to _do_ something. Regina's curse had temporarily taken away their identities, and the loss of agency was still grating even now that the curse was broken. Everyone wanted to feel as though they were in control of their own lives once more.

But rushing into anything would only make matters worse.

He met Mary Margaret's gaze with a grimace.

David had been more than a little surprised to receive the invitation to this meeting. It had come only an hour after leaving Regina's, and his mind was still fuzzy from the enchanted sleep and his temper still only barely under control. It had been challenging to wrap his head around everything that had happened during the past several days, but now, sitting around the table in one of the conference rooms at Town Hall, he couldn't deny that nothing was the same as it had been before.

When had his allies become strangers to him?

He wasn't sure that he and Mary Margaret were even wanted there – but that could have been his own imagination working against him. There were several rivalries at this table, and yet the rulers all had enough sense of propriety to include every king and every queen at this discussion, regardless of personal enmity. There was no reason to believe that he and Mary Margaret were somehow to be singled out as unwelcome.

And yet…

Was it his imagination, or did Midas look at him with suspicion, did Charles look at him with concern?

Under the table, Mary Margaret squeezed his hand reassuringly.

They'd left Henry with Granny at the diner. Mary Margaret hadn't wanted to; after so much time separated from those she loved, and with Emma still gone, David knew his wife wanted nothing more than to keep Henry close to her forever. But this meeting was too important to ignore, and Henry didn't belong in the tension-filled room.

Primrose, ever a peacemaker, cleared her throat and interrupted the awkward silence. As the others at the table turned towards her, she said softly, "I agree with Leah that dividing up the land and forcing people to move might be too complicated. Besides, people are only just now beginning to adjust to life after the breaking of the curse – forcibly moving everyone could easily undo all the progress that has been made these past few weeks."

"Progress?" David snorted.

Primrose flinched, and David felt a twinge of guilt. Although he thought her words absurd, it was clear that his response had upset her – and though he barely knew Primrose at all, he did know that she had never had the strongest of spirits.

Thomas rested a comforting hand on Primrose's shoulder, and glowered at David. "My wife is correct in referring to it as progress," he accused, "even if you were too busy with your own desires to notice."

David gritted his teeth. "If you are referring to getting my family back…" he started angrily, but Charles cut him off.

"James," he said in a placating manner, "please. Let's focus on the matter at hand."

David raised an eyebrow and said bluntly, and with a hint of annoyance, "My name is David."

"Diplomacy is better than brute force," Mary Margaret admonished under her breath.

David slanted an abashed look at her. He didn't even know why he had responded the way he did. He'd never really liked being called James - it had been awkward to wear his brother's identity - but he had accepted it as a necessity, and few had known his real name. Now that he had the opportunity to revert to David, he seized it eagerly... but that was still no reason to snap at Charles.

"If you and Snow want to be called by the names Regina forced upon you, I will not argue with it," Leah said loftily, though her tone made it clear how little she thought of _that _notion. "But it would still be in your best interests to remember that you are leaders. Watch how you act, for others will follow."

"I don't need lessons in how to lead," David growled.

"Please, just stop," Charles said tiredly, looking between the two. "This bickering will get us nowhere."

"I agree," Midas said, jumping in quickly. "However…" he gave Charles a thoughtful look, "I am inclined to agree with Charles that it would be best if we divided Storybrooke into kingdoms." Leah opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to forestall her complaint and explained further, "I fully agree that it will be complicated," he looked at Primrose, "and may undo some of the progress this town has made. However, as James… _David_… pointed out, we may be stuck in this town forever. Not just us, but our children, and our children's children, and so on. We may need to sacrifice the present for the sake of the future. Creating separate… shall we call them territories?... is the best way to ensure that our town is peaceful for generations to come."

A silence met Midas' statement, then Stefan questioned pointedly, "So does this mean that we are willing to give up on finding a way home?"

"There is nothing left of our home," Mary Margaret answered. "It is all destroyed, and the ogres are back."

"Then we fight the ogres and we rebuild our land," Stefan argued passionately, his own hand resting lightly on Leah's arm as he addressed both Midas and Mary Margaret. "That place is our _home_. How can we just give up on it?"

"This has been our home for twenty-eight years," Eric interrupted, intertwining his fingers with Ariel and giving her a warm smile. His eyes darkened for a moment as he added, "I lost Ariel for those twenty-eight years, and that makes me furious." He looked straight at Stefan and concluded, "But I have her back now, and this place, this town… it does feel like my home."

"You are young," Leah huffed, impatience and animosity evident in her tone. She and Eric's parents had despised each other, David recalled, and the two kingdoms had frequently been embroiled in skirmishes – some diplomatic, some consisting of actual fighting. When Eric had inherited the kingdom upon his father's death, Leah had simply transferred her dislike of the old king to his son.

"Yes," Eric agreed flatly, eying Leah with ill-concealed venom, "I am. And Storybrooke has been my home for twenty-eight years – which is three years longer than our old land."

David glanced around the table quickly, for the first time noting the ages of the other rulers present. Eric and Ariel were the youngest, and the only ones in his and Mary Margaret's generation.

Only rulers were allowed at this meeting – Ashley and Sean were excluded because Charles was still alive and Katherine was excluded because Midas was here. The same held true for Rapunzel, who did not have a place at the negotiations because of Thomas and Primrose's presence. Aurora, had she been in Storybrooke, would not have been included either, though Leah might have been less hostile to everyone, David reflected, if her daughter wasn't trapped in a far away land.

Was it the difference in age that made the younger generation more inclined to think of Storybrooke as home?

"You were cursed for those twenty-eight years" Leah said contemptuously. "You can't possibly think you should have any loyalty to this place?"

"It isn't your true home, _Prince_ Eric," Stefan agreed.

Eric bristled, as did David, because the insult was meant as much for him as it was for the other man.

He felt Mary Margaret squeeze his hand again – this time a warning, not a comfort.

David inhaled slowly and tried to control his temper.

He could still remember the first time Mary Margaret – then Snow – had explained it to him. They'd been out riding in the forest near the Summer Palace, and he had spontaneously asked her why her subjects still referred to her as Princess Snow when her father had died a long time ago, Regina had been deposed, and she was technically a queen.

She'd laughed at him, the way she did when she found his lack of knowledge of princely things to be endearing.

_They are just titles, Charming. They don't have meaning on their own – they mean only what you and others put into them._

It had taken him a while to figure out that most very young kings and queens – those who had inherited their lands when their parents had died unexpectedly, long before their time – were still referred to as prince and princess by their subjects, and that it didn't _matter_. No one was questioning their ability to lead.

But the title _could_ be used as an slight when it was bestowed upon someone by another king or queen – and when it was used to convey a lack of experience, and therefore authority, due to age.

Stefan had insulted Eric's authority – and had meant the insult to reach David as well.

Mary Margaret was still squeezing his hand.

David let out the breath he had been holding and heard himself say in a voice of forced calm, "If Eric believes that this is his home, you have no right to tell him otherwise."

"I agree," Ariel said in a clipped tone. "Home is not necessarily the place in which you were born." She held Stefan's gaze without flinching and added, "I should know that far better than anyone else here."

Stefan didn't have a response to that, and out of the corner of his eye, David saw Mary Margaret smile.

"Can we please refocus?" Midas asked impatiently, waving away the previous debate with a careless gesture. "A discussion of what _feels_ like home is hardly the point of this meeting."

"It is _exactly_ the point," Thomas snipped.

There was no love lost between Thomas and Midas, either.

"We need to build a home – either here or in our old lands," Thomas continued. "And we need to take into consideration how people feel."

"And if they are divided? Some may want a return to a more… traditional… state of affairs, and others may want things to stay the way they are. Can we afford the chaos that such a situation would create?" Stefan questioned contemplatively.

"Can we afford to make decisions for the entire town without asking people what they want first?" Mary Margaret countered.

"You and your charming husband seem to have no problem doing that," Leah answered bitterly.

David clenched his teeth to keep from shouting at her.

"We have six kingdoms here," Midas said, interrupting the brewing argument, "plus dwarves and fairies." He glanced at Ariel. "Are there any mermaids besides you?"

"Not that I have found," Ariel said softly, grief lacing her words. She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was hoarse, as though she had trouble saying the words. "I don't believe Regina cursed them. They are probably still living in the oceans in our old world."

"Do you think their lands would have been touched by the curse?" Mary Margaret asked suddenly, leaning forward with interest, though David could not figure out why that would matter to her.

Ariel ran her fingers through her red hair. "I don't know," she said with a helpless shrug. "But even if the curse did not impact them, even if the underwater lands remain the same, they will have noticed the change above. I did not see my father or my sisters that frequently after I became human, but neither did I ignore them completely. They would have noticed my absence and gone looking for me."

David felt a rush of blazing anger at Regina as he took in the unadulterated grief in Ariel's eyes. What had the one-time mermaid ever done to Regina to deserve being so completely separated from her family like this? He had gotten Mary Margaret back, and they would find Emma. But Ariel might never see her father or sisters again.

Eric slid his arm around Ariel's shoulders and she leaned into him with a sigh.

"Seven kingdoms," Primrose said abruptly. All eyes turned towards her, and she elaborated, "There are seven kingdoms here. Didn't Regina have a kingdom, too, even after she was banished?" Her gaze moved to Mary Margaret. "She had followers, didn't she?"

Mary Margaret nodded once.

Leah's eyes narrowed in thought, and she demanded, "Does anyone know if she has contacted them?"

David and Mary Margaret exchanged a quick look, then David said slowly, "She was going to meet Sidney Glass today. He was her… uh… magic mirror. But I don't know if she has contacted anyone else." He frowned, puzzled, and then said, "I don't think she has."

His frown deepened as he realized that Regina's lack of communication with her own followers didn't make any sense. They had been loyal to her in the past, even when they knew about her plan for the curse, so they would still be loyal to her now. And she'd had a large enough army to storm his palace when the curse was cast, so she could certainly have used them to cause some serious damage to Storybrooke if she'd wanted.

But as far as he knew, she hadn't even tried to contact any of them.

Leah's lips flattened into a thin line. "We can't afford to make any assumptions," she said curtly. "They are a threat to us, to everyone we love."

"So we have seven kingdoms present," Midas said, "and the dwarves and fairies. And then it would seem that there are some that do not belong to any kingdom, some that do not even belong to our land." He paused, eyes darting around the table to meet each person's gaze, before adding, "And then there is the Dark One."

A murmur of unease ran through the room.

The Dark One was more feared than Regina, but both presented a tricky problem – as dangerous as they were, no one actually wanted to confront them. It was a fight that would cost far too many lives and would shatter whatever tentative peace they managed to build. And yet the idea of letting the two wander freely after all the suffering they had caused…

But David knew something the others did not – both Regina and Gold had weaknesses. Which meant that both Regina and Gold could be influenced, manipulated…

Maybe even controlled.

At any other time, David would have been the first to volunteer this information to those gathered around the table. At any other time, he wouldn't have withheld knowledge because he would have believed that everyone deserved to know, everyone deserved to be able to protect themselves and their people against such dangerous threats. At any other time, he would have assumed that they could all work together for the greater good.

But this was not any other time.

And so he thought of Henry and Belle, and he held his tongue.

* * *

The young woman was a pretty brunette, short and thin, and she wore a sweet smile that contrasted sharply with the look of determination in her beautiful blue eyes.

She stopped Mary Margaret on the street, catching her arm with a light grip. "Snow," she said. It wasn't a question.

Mary Margaret paused for a moment, not recognizing the woman. "Yes?"

"I'm Belle."

The words _Rumpelstiltskin's girlfriend_ echoed through her mind, and she immediately began searching the other woman's face for any sign of insanity, or any hint of duplicity and villainy. How else could her love for the Dark One be explained?

But there was nothing in Belle's expression but an earnest determination.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Mary Margaret said politely, if a bit warily, and extended her hand. "Please, call me Mary Margaret."

Belle nodded, and shook Mary Margaret's hand.

The meeting with the other rulers had been long and exhausting, and Mary Margaret wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. Unfortunately, it was only just now mid-afternoon, and she couldn't afford to waste time. Nothing had been decided at the meeting, and she was sure nothing would be decided for a long time to come, but she was now finally understanding what Regina and the Mother Superior and Archie had all meant when they said the town was close to the brink of chaos. The conversation had been overly cordial for the most part, but the resentments and frustrations were simmering underneath.

And with Cora here… how much longer before they went erupted?

"I hear you are planning to fight Cora," Belle stated, falling into step next to Mary Margaret.

"We are," Mary Margaret said, "although at the moment we are also focusing on getting my daughter back."

"Emma Swan, right?" Belle asked. When Mary Margaret murmured her agreement, Belle sighed and said, "David was very kind… he helped me. He and Ruby saved me from what my father had planned to do, and I…"

She trailed off, and Mary Margaret asked cautiously, "What did your father plan to do?"

Belle inhaled sharply, and then said, "It's a long story. And the point is – I want to help you." She curled her lip as she added bitterly, "_Rumple_ doesn't want me to, but I can't…" She stopped, regained her composure, and started again, "I have been told that Cora is dangerous, but I won't sit by and do nothing while the woman who murdered my father walks free."

David had gone ahead, rushing back to the diner to get Henry, while Mary Margaret had opted to take a detour to so she could talk to Leroy and the other dwarves. But without David present, she knew she was missing something here. Whatever Belle's father had done had obviously upset the brunette, and whatever Gold had done had only made things worse, but the girl was still determined to find Cora.

Mary Margaret made an internal note to get the full story from David later, and said, "Any help you can give would be greatly appreciated, Belle, but I have to admit, I don't have much of a plan at the moment."

Belle shrugged. "Maybe not, but at least you're actually doing something."

* * *

It was possibly the strangest war council Regina had ever seen, and certainly not one she would have thought of creating on her own.

Mary Margaret and David stood hand-in-hand, leaning against the diner's bar and exchanging sickeningly adoring looks with each other. Leroy and Doc perched on stools to their right, Leroy wearing his perpetual scowl and Doc surveying the group quietly. Across from Mary Margaret stood Sidney, and he looked decided displeased about being there. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were narrowed slightly, as though daring anyone to start a conversation with him. Next to Sidney stood Belle, her back ramrod straight and her chin jutted out in that expression of determination she seemed to be always wearing now. Archie was sitting at a booth towards the outskirts of the circle, while the Mother Superior sat next to him with her ankles daintily crossed.

Only Granny was missing from the tableau, and she had remained at Regina's home to watch over Henry who was, predictably, upset about being left out of the plans.

David cleared his throat, assuming the de facto leadership position.

"Thank you all for coming," he began, and the statement was greeted with murmurs and nodding heads. Regina rolled her eyes, though she doubted anyone caught the gesture. Why did David have to be so predictably polite and his merry little band of followers so boringly agreeable?

David continued, "We have two distinct – and also connected – problems to address. The first is to find a way to reach Emma and bring her safely back to Storybrooke." He gave Sidney an unreadable look, then continued, "Our second concern is the threat posed by Cora. Mary Margaret believes that Cora was responsible for the storm that separated her from Emma in our land, and we have reason to believe that she also killed Belle's father," he inclined his head towards the brunette in sympathy at her loss, "and that she framed Ruby for this."

"Do we know why?" Leroy demanded gruffly, angrily.

"To spread chaos," Regina answered succinctly. "She does not like royalty, and will take great pleasure in watching all the rulers in this town fall – _particularly_ Miss Blanchard."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, then?" Leroy commented dryly, the accusation all too obvious in his words. For all of his defense of her the previous night on the docks, there was still too much animosity – too much history – for him to fully trust her.

No doubt that was true for all of them.

Regina couldn't bring herself to care.

She sighed tiredly. "My mother is dangerous," she said, wishing she did not have to constantly repeat that phrase, "and I have no doubt that she will be coming for me, too."

"She should not be underestimated," the Mother Superior agreed softly, eyes traveling around the circle. Her gaze lingered on Leroy, who glared at her for a brief moment before lowering his gaze and nodding his head in acquiescence.

Regina pursed her lips and made a note of that brief exchange.

"Sidney," David said, "Regina indicated that you might be able to help locate Emma."

"I might," Sidney answered, "but I might not." He stopped, as though not intending to say more, but when David continued to stare at him, he added almost defensively, "I don't have the magic that I had before."

"Can you get it back?" Doc asked curiously. "After all, magic has come to Storybrooke. If the Blue Fairy and the Evil Queen and Rumpelstiltskin have magic…"

"Magic comes with a price," Sidney interrupted quickly, coolly. "I paid it once, but I'm not willing to pay it again."

Doc furrowed his brow, not quite understanding, but opted not to argue the point. Sidney's tone had been firm and unyielding, his words final, and Doc must have sensed that he would not get a different answer merely by pressing the point.

David, however, did not sense that.

"But if it helps us get Emma back…" he suggested, trailing off uncertainly when he received no immediate response from the other man. Sidney continued to gaze at him in silence, so David pushed, "How bad of a price could it be?"

Regina could have laughed at the question, if only it had been funny. But the price of magic was always far more than people realized, and only fools allowed themselves to be swayed into ignoring it.

She'd been a fool once.

So had Sidney.

And once that price is paid, it is so very hard to undo.

Sidney shook his head. "It's not an option," he said acerbically, and Regina could tell by the way he slanted a look in her direction for just the briefest fraction of a second that he was thinking of all his years of servitude, first as a genie and then as a magic mirror.

Regina found herself saying, "We don't need his magic. We have mine. All we need from Sidney is his knowledge."

"Are you sure your magic will be enough?" Mary Margaret asked, chewing her lip worriedly. "It takes powerful magic to cross worlds, and we have to worry about Cora, too. How do you know you can even find Emma, let alone bring her back?"

That was a very good question, and Regina knew she couldn't honestly promise anything. After her previous speech about the dangers of false hope, it would be hypocritical to provide it now - but then, when had she ever cared about hypocrisy?

"Can we rely on help from any of the other kings and queens? They might have friends or allies with magic – and with the knowledge of how to transverse worlds." Archie asked, taking Regina's silence as admission of her own uncertainty.

David snorted. "I don't think we can rely on anything from them but suspicion and accusations," he muttered bitterly.

"What about the younger generation?" Mary Margaret murmured, glancing at David. "Eric and Ariel might be inclined to help us, and I am sure if we explained the situation to Ashley and Sean…" She hesitated, then asked with a shadow of doubt and some lingering pain in her eyes, "And… what about Katherine?"

"I haven't spoken to her since the curse broke," David admitted, leaning against the counter and looking from his wife to the other gathered in the circle. "But we were friendly before, back when she was Abigail. Perhaps…" Then he shook his head quickly, pushing away the thought, and said with a frustrated sigh, "But what good will it do if Charles and Midas refuse to listen to them?"

"They won't. They're _family_."

Regina closed her eyes for a moment, trying to stave off a growing headache, and pondered Mary Margaret's words. Family meant something among the ridiculously naïve members of Good. Treaties were made between rulers, but family members still exerted influence. Leopold had always valued Snow's opinion on his alliances, and she could only assume the same was true for all the other rulers. Perhaps Katherine and Sean could sway their respective fathers.

But perhaps not.

As she had learned from both her uncle and Sidney, now that the curse had broken, they were dealing neither with fairytale characters nor cursed identities, but rather a mixture of both – and that could lead to unpredictable results.

"Between Regina's magic and my own, I believe we will have enough to rescue Emma – if we can find her."

Regina's eyes snapped open and she gave the Mother Superior and incredulous stare. That was a bold statement, but perhaps not so out-of-character for a fairy who had always believed that she could fix every problem – as long as she cared enough to try.

"If we are going to focus our efforts on forming alliances, I believe it would be most productive to convince the others of Cora's presence," Mother Superior continued. "We don't need their help to rescue the Sheriff, but we will need them to fight Cora. Or, at the very least, not give in to her manipulations."

"But what exactly has Cora _done_?" Archie asked. He gave Belle a quick, apologetic look, and hurried on, "I know we think her responsible for the death of Belle's father, but beyond that…" He turned to the Mother Superior and said, "I believe you when you say that she is dangerous. But if her goal is in fact to destroy the entire town… well, why hasn't she done _more_?"

"My mother prefers to work behind the scenes, and would watch us destroy each other rather than do any of her own dirty work," Regina said quietly, her mind wandering back in time to the image of her mother standing in the stables the night that everything changed. Her heart clenched at the memory, and a sardonic smile curled her lips as she added, "She never does anything unless she knows exactly how it will play out and is convinced that she can win. I have no doubt that she is currently moving pieces into place, setting up this town to turn on itself, and when she pulls the trigger… well."

She felt both Mary Margaret and David staring at her intently, but made no move to look in their direction. They both knew far too many of her secrets already, and she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing the tears that burned in her eyes.

"Still seems like she is moving slowly," Leroy remarked a bit sullenly.

"Would you rather her have killed more people than just my father?" Belle demanded hotly, seemingly enraged by Leroy's careless comment.

Regina ignored Belle's words and said to Leroy, "She is merely being thorough. Don't mistake her caution for hesitation." She exhaled slowly, feeling a strange tightening in her chest. She was tired, but she pushed on, "We need to be concerned about Hook as well. I would hope that he is not foolish enough to join forces with my mother again, but it is a distinct possibility."

"Has anyone ever beaten your mother before?" Doc asked.

Regina hesitated, then said, "Yes. One person. Once."

She didn't elaborate. She didn't know the details of that particular confrontation, though her mother had alluded to it from time to time. But even if she had, it would not have helped them. Cora learned from her past mistakes, and she would not fall for the same trap twice.

"Well?" Doc prompted. "Who was it?"

Regina merely stared at it, but it was Belle who understood and said, "I will talk to Rumple again. I can convince him to help us - I know I can."

"If he made a deal with my mother, he won't break it," Regina answered wearily, annoyed at having to repeat herself. "Not if my mother's promise was your safety." She had told Belle all this before, and yet for some reason the brunette refused to listen. Why couldn't Belle accept that Gold would not risk her life for anything?

Her words were met with silence. Leroy and Doc were both staring at Belle with a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment, and Regina knew they were having a hard time accepting that this seemingly sane young woman could love a monster - and believe that the monster loved her in return. But Regina had seen Rumpelstiltskin's response to Belle's supposed death, and she _knew._

"But, for Cora to make a deal with Gold..." David started, before trailing off and studied Belle carefully. She met his gaze, waiting for him to finish his thought, but when David spoke again, it was to Regina. "How could Cora have even known that Belle mattered to Gold?"

Regina bristled at the accusation in his tone. "Do you really think I told her?" she scoffed, her hackles raised and her words turning bitingly formal. "Don't be a fool, dear – what could I possibly hope to gain from providing my mother with such a bargaining piece?"

"Well, she had to find out somehow," Leroy pointed out, predictably coming to David's defense. It didn't matter that the accusation made no sense - they would still blame Regina for this, even if she stood to gain absolutely _nothing_ from it.

She rolled her eyes and waived an impatient hand towards Belle. "Cora probably saw the necklace."

"The… what?" Belle asked, looking down at the pendant that hung on a chain around her neck. She touched it lightly with the tips of her fingers. "I don't understand," she said, and Regina struggled to refrain from pointing out that _lack of understanding_ seemed to be a common theme. Honestly, was there anything Belle _did_ understand?

"The necklace you are wearing, dear," Regina asked softly, "when did you first put it on?"

"A few days ago," Belle said. "Rumple gave it to me, along with some other clothing because I had none." She stopped, looking around the circle with wide eyes to see if anyone else could offer her more information, but when no one said anything, she continued almost defensively, "Maybe I haven't worn it before, but he gave me a lot of clothing, so I didn't have a reason to. I think it looks nice, though."

Regina lifted one eyebrow and studied the pendant in question. "If you're going to lie, dear, at least make it believable," she drawled. "The necklace is horribly gaudy. Your darling Rumple may have many talents, but picking out jewelry is certainly not one of them."

"I like it," Belle snapped, dropping her arms to her sides.

"No, you only think you do," Regina countered. She stepped forward, crossing the circle quickly, and placed a finger on the pendant at Belle's throat.

It glowed blue.

Belle started and lifted her hand back to the necklace, covering it with her fingers. Archie jumped out of his seat and hurried to Belle's side, and Leroy and Doc both slid off their stools as though expecting a fight.

But it was David who lunged forward and grabbed Regina's arm, pulling her backwards and hissing, "What did you _do_?"

Regina yanked her arm out of David's grip. "I did nothing," she snapped.

David looked as though he was about to argue, but the explanation came from one of the last people Regina would have expected to come to her defense.

"The necklace is enchanted," Mother Superior said patiently, interlocking her fingers and resting her hands on the booth table "and not by Regina."

Her words had the calming affect that Regina's could not, and David gave Regina a final glare before taking a step backwards and rejoining Mary Margaret's side.

"You put that on the morning after my mother came through the portal," Regina said, rubbing her arm where David had grabbed her, "because Rumple broke into your home and enchanted it. The enchantment calls to you, convinces you that you want to wear it."

Belle blinked. "I don't... why would he…?" she asked in bewilderment.

"Because it also has a protection spell on it," Mother Superior replied. "Strong enough that Cora would not be able to cause you any direct harm." She leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the necklace, her expression bordering on... awe? She blinked once, twice, then said, "Her spells would rebound, and if she tried to so much as push you, the necklace would most likely send her reeling."

Belle shook her head, her disbelief and _inability to understand_ continuing. "How do you know this?" she asked, looking down at the pendant.

"The spell is strong enough that anyone attuned to magic could sense it," Regina explained to Belle, but her attention was mostly on the Mother Superior. Gold's abilities often impressed her, though she did her best to hide it - but she had never seen a fairy display anything except disgust for the Dark One's powers.

The Mother Superior turned and met Regina's gaze and Regina was the first to look away.

"My mother would certainly have been able to sense that spell," Regina said, switching her gaze to Belle, "and she is no fool. She knows that there are precious few people with enough power to make a spell like _that_, and it would not be too difficult for her to figure out who had done it – and why."

Belle continued to stare blankly at the pendant.

Regina bit her tongue to keep from spewing out angry words – how could people on the side of Good ever dare to be _surprised_ when they were loved? Belle had _no idea_ what it was like to be truly alone, and yet she still somehow had the presumption to act as though every kindness was a shock.

She turned away from Belle, and stalked back to her place in the circle.

As she did so, her gaze fell upon Mary Margaret. She was studying Belle closely, her expression guarded and wary. Regina knew that Mary Margaret was struggling with this – the very idea that Gold would love someone enough to go to such extraordinary lengths to protect them was unfathomable.

But then the caution faded away, replaced by a pleased smile, and Regina gritted. Mary Margaret saw this as further evidence that true love could conquer everything, even the Dark One. As usual, the naïve little princess saw love as something good and wonderful… and completely failed to grasp the fact that Gold's love for Belle made him _more_ dangerous, not less.

"If the necklace protects Belle, why would Gold have needed to make a deal with Cora?" David asked finally, turning to Regina for answers.

Regina considered this for a long moment, then said, "The necklace would only protect her from a direct attack. My mother is _creative_. I have no doubt that she could devise away to harm Belle indirectly – and that is what she used against Gold."

"And he'd do all that?" Leroy asked skeptically, unwilling or unable to believe Gold capable of love. "For her?"

"Yes," Regina said in a clipped tone.

"But I don't want this," Belle protested weakly, shaking her head in frustration. "I want Rumple to _help_ us. I want to _stop_ Cora." She reached up to rip off the necklace, but her hand paused at the clasp and then dropped back to her side.

She stared at the necklace in dismay.

"You can't take it off," the Mother Superior said gently, rising to her feet and resting a hand on Belle's arm. With a sympathetic smile, explained, "That is the whole point of the enchantment. You will wear it – whether you want to or not."

"But… why would he…?" Belle shook her head again, her eyes swimming with tears. She blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay, but that did nothing to disguise her anger and hurt. Obviously, she did not like magic being used against her, and from the way her fingers twisted viciously into the fabric of her skirt, Regina could tell that Belle saw Gold's actions as a betrayal.

Belle let out a breath, and pressed her fingers flat against her legs.

To the Mother Superior, she asked, "Can't you do something? Magic it off somehow?"

The Mother Superior furrowed her brow and studied the pendant, but then shook her head. "The spell is too strong," she answered. "I'm sorry, Belle, but only Gold can undo it."

Belle ground her teeth together, several different emotions playing across her features and warring for control. There was frustration, denial, confusion, pain – but in the end, it was anger that won out.

"How could he?" she exploded finally, shoving herself away from everyone and turning her back on the circle. Her voice shook with pent-up rage and barely-disguised hurt as she continued, "Doesn't he know me at all? How could he think that I would be alright with this?"

"Don't be a fool," Regina snapped before anyone else could respond.

Belle whirled on her. "A fool?" she hissed, and in that moment, Regina saw some of the fire and the stubborn determination that must have drawn Rumpelstiltskin to her. The younger woman stepped forward, splotches of color appearing on her cheeks. "Is that what you think I am? Should I just accept that Rumple gets to make all my decisions for me? That I have no say?"

Regina quirked an eyebrow and refused to be intimidated by Belle's wrath. "You misunderstand, dear," she drawled. "Your foolishness is not that you are upset by Rumple's actions. It is that you think this somehow shows that he doesn't know you at all." She paused, lips pressed into a thin line, and gestured to the pendant. "I would venture that this shows just how well he truly does know you."

"So I'm supposed to be alright with this?"

"No, dear," Regina murmured tiredly. Honestly, how stupid was this girl? It must have been the bravery and spirit that drew Rumpelstiltskin to her, because it certainly wasn't her intelligence. "You are not supposed to be alright with this. That is exactly the _point_."

"I don't follow."

"_Obviously_."

Regina felt a sudden wave of dizziness run through her, and her vision narrowed, darkness encroaching. It was gone as quickly and abruptly as it had come, and her vision returned to its normal state, but the suddenness of it all left her feeling wrong-footed and wary.

And tired. So very tired.

"Regina?" she heard Mary Margaret prompt, waiting for more of an elaborating on her words to Belle.

Regina exhaled a long breath, then said slowly, measuring her words so that the fools might understand, "Gold knew you would want to fight Cora. You're so unfailing… and idiotically… good, that you would not hesitate to try to protect this town. And Gold also knew that there might come a time when you would not want to wear his protection spell – either through your own ridiculous stubbornness or my mother's manipulation. He enchanted the necklace to prevent you from taking it off, not because he thought you would willing accept his protection, but because he knew you _wouldn't_."

Belle's skin had flushed a light pink, and she spat, "That's not how it works – that's not love. It's… it's _selfish_. He doesn't get to… to decide... what I do." She swallowed back her anger and said in a calmer voice, "My father thought he knew what was best for me, too, and nearly destroyed me because of it."

Regina laughed hollowly and asked, "I'm sorry, dear – but did you ever truly believe that Rumple _wasn't_ selfish?"

"Enough," David interrupted before Belle could reply. He sent Regina a warning glare, then said to Belle in a gentler tone, "We'll figure something out. We'll get the necklace off, I promise."

Regina rolled her eyes again. As usual, the side of Good was so desperate to do the correct, the moral, the _right_ thing that they failed to see just how stupid it was. At the moment, the necklace was keeping Belle safe and alive. Gold's deal might protect the librarian from Cora, but it would not protect her from any other enemy – including Hook. The necklace, on the other hand, would do that.

Why would she want to remove it?

Was doing the _right_ thing really worth being dead?

And, anyway, they really were all idiots if they thought Gold was going to willingly allow Belle to remove that source of protection.

The meeting turned back to talk of alliances and finding Emma, but Regina only paid cursory attention. She wasn't interested in building alliances with the other rulers – and they certainly wouldn't build alliances with her. Not unless they had absolutely no choice – which they would when Cora made her final move, at which point it would probably be too late.

She closed her eyes as another wave of dizziness washed over her.

Then she opened her eyes again, and found Archie staring at her.

* * *

When the meeting finally ended, Archie made his way towards Regina. He'd seen her moments of weakness during the meeting, though she had done her best to hide them and recover quickly. He wanted to help her - if only she wasn't so stubborn as to refuse that.

"Regina," he said, catching up to her at the door to the diner.

She favored him with a contemptuous glare. "What do you want, bug?" she snapped.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, ignoring the epithet and the tone. "You look tired."

Her lips curled into a disdainful smirk. "My mother is here. How did you expect me to look?" she replied, her words dripping with derision for his question.

"Would you like to talk about anything?" he offered. "My door is always open."

"Yes, it is," she said coldly, "and then you will turn around and tell all my secrets to anyone who asks. So thank you, but no."

"I barely told Henry anything," Archie protested in frustration. Dealing with Regina was tiring, and every time they started sparing some part of him wanted to throw his hands in the air and walk away.

But he couldn't, not really.

"He already knew a lot about Daniel – or suspected it, anyway," Archie pressed on. "I was just trying to help."

"I don't need your help," Regina retorted.

Archie bit back the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she listened to him, until she admitted that she did need help because trying to do this alone was taking its toll on her.

Instead, he said flatly, "It wasn't you I was trying to help." She gave him a sharp look, and he knew he had her attention when he said, "It was Henry. He was very upset – he felt guilt that Cora was here, thought it was his fault, and his faith in that book of fairytales had been shaken by your revelation about Daniel. He was _hurting_. He needed answers, and he needed comfort."

"I don't need you to tell me how to raise my son," Regina practically growled, but something in her expression had softened just a bit and Archie knew he had said the right thing. If he couldn't get through to her by convincing her that he wanted to help her, he could at least try to convince her that he wanted to help Henry.

"I'm not trying to tell you how to do that," Archie answered calmly. "I'm just trying to help him." He paused, then added, "And I would like to help you, too, if you would let me. You need a friend."

"No, I don't," Regina answered. "Not when it always comes at such a high cost." But her gaze was now appraising, and she made no move to leave.

There was a moment of silence.

The Regina asked, "Does Henry still think Cora's appearance was his fault?"

"I don't know," Archie answered honestly. "I told him it wasn't, but I'm not sure he believed me. His faith in Good… in everything… has been... shaken. Maybe even lost." Regina's eyes darkened at that, and Archie hurried on, "But he's young, and children are resilient. This is hard for him - but you know how remarkable of a child he is. He can get through it... with help."

Regina pursed her lips and nodded once. Then she turned on her heel and strode out of the diner without a backwards glance.

Archie wasn't sure, but he thought it was a good sign that she hadn't insulted him before leaving.

He turned away from the door to find Mary Margaret hovering behind him, listening to the conversation. There was a thoughtful look on her face, but when he caught her eye, she merely gave him a smile and turned away, shifting her attention back to a conversation with David and Leroy.

Outside the diner window, Archie watched Regina walk to her car alone.


	19. Missing

Chapter Nineteen: Missing

The brief conversation with Archie still echoed in Regina's mind the next morning as she watched Henry push his spoon back and forth through his cereal. She could tell he was bored, and could hardly blame him for that – he was far too inquisitive a boy to be content trapped inside his home.

But she'd rather him bored than dead.

She was a little surprised that Mary Margaret and David hadn't insisted on taking Henry back now that they were both awake and in Storybrooke. She hadn't offered them the safety of her home and they hadn't asked, and some of her fears of losing Henry to them had abated slightly.

But only slightly. She knew the dangers of letting her guard down around either of them, and she doubted that she would ever be able to watch Henry interact with them without feeling that sudden flaring of fear that she would be left alone again.

Besides, perhaps the only reason Mary Margaret and David had allowed her to keep Henry for the previous night was because they wanted some _alone time_ together. Last night would have been their first real chance to be in each other's company since Mary Margaret's unexpected return to the Enchanted Forest, and she had a pretty good idea how they had wanted to spend their time.

She sighed and looked down at the cup of coffee in her hands.

Last night Henry had peppered her with questions when she returned to the mansion, but when he realized that she still didn't know exactly how to rescue Emma, he had lapsed into a sullen silence. She had taken it as a reaction against her, but now as she thought of Archie's words again, she couldn't help but wonder…

"Henry," she started, and when he looked up at her she realized that she had no idea how to even broach the subject.

She set her cup of coffee down on the counter and took the seat across from him at the kitchen table.

"What happened at the well, with my mother…" Regina trailed off uncertainly, then said, "It wasn't your fault."

Henry stared at her. "Okay," he said simply, and the amount of disbelief he managed to fit into that single word nearly took Regina's breath away.

How had she not noticed before how much this was hurting him? Why had it taken a _bug_ to point that out to her?

"Cora is powerful," Regina continued, the words coming out awkwardly. "She would have found a way back to Storybrooke no matter what." She hesitated, casting about for something else to say, and finally managed, "The magic Mr. Gold and I used on the portal probably would not have been enough to stop her."

That was a complete lie, and both she and Henry knew it. But she didn't know what to do but lie. How could she convince Henry that this wasn't his fault when the facts said otherwise?

Henry scraped at the bottom of the bowl with the edge of his spoon, and they both sat in silence for a moment, listening to the sound.

His cereal had turned to mush.

"You were trying to help Miss Swan and Miss Blanchard," Regina continued desperately. "That's not… wrong. It was very… good of you… to want them to come back safely."

The words sounded trite and pathetic even to her own ears.

"You couldn't have known that it was my mother who would come through. None of us could, not really," Regina said. She forced a strained smile to her lips and added, "Good does win – a lot."

_That_, at least, was true.

Henry dropped his spoon. "You knew," he said bluntly, not meeting her gaze. He pressed his hands flat against the table and stood up. His voice shook. "You and Mr. Gold knew that… that Cora was going to come through."

"No – we guessed it. But we didn't… we didn't _know_," Regina protested. Henry merely continued to stare at her, so she added weakly, "It wasn't your fault."

"Can I go to Granny's diner today?" Henry asked abruptly.

Regina blinked, surprised by the turn of the conversation, and then nodded. "Yes, of course, dear," she answered automatically.

Henry gave her a stiff smile that did not reach his eyes and bolted from the room, and Regina buried her head in her hands and tried to figure out how she was supposed to talk to her son.

* * *

"I was wondering when you would show up," Cora said lazily as Hook came storming into the small house. She looked up from her seat on an overstuffed armchair, and added, "I'm impressed, though. I thought it would take you longer to find me."

Hook didn't answer her remark, but instead looked around the house in open curiosity. "Who lives here?" he asked suspiciously.

"Don't worry, my dear Captain," Cora replied, laughing inwardly at his distrust, "I don't have any allies in Storybrooke that I concealed from you in all our planning. I merely… acquired this house from its previous owner."

She glanced idly at the fishbowl sitting on the coffee table, at the goldfish swimming around inside it.

Hook followed her gaze. "You turned him into a fish?"

"_Her_, actually," Cora replied, rising to her feet and smoothing out the creases in her skirt. "One of Snow's peasant friends. Not that I knew that at the time, of course – it was merely an added bonus." She stepped around the table and approached him. "I chose this house for the location. Close enough to the center of town to be in the thick of things, and yet far enough away to be unnoticed by most passing by."

Hook didn't comment on that, but instead gestured to her outfit. "You changed."

"Yes. A gown did not seem appropriate for blending in, though if Stefan and Leah have there way, that might change." She touched the rough fabric of her skirt, and frowned. "I'm not quite sure how I feel about the fashions in this land. However, I will admit that getting dressed is much easier here. I often wondered how the poor fools at home managed the more complicated fashions without magic."

Hook folded his arms over his chest, unimpressed by her musings.

"You abandoned me," he accused, seething. "I helped you – I brought you the princess' heart that allowed you to trap Snow and her daughter into the Dark One's cell, fought them for you when they escaped, and you _left_ me."

"I did," Cora agreed unapologetically. "And what of it? I had my own plans to keep, and you were... indisposed."

Hook practically growled at her, "We were supposed to be working _together_. We were supposed to come to Storybrooke _together_."

"And now you are here and I am here, and we are both in Storybrooke. _Together_," Cora countered, mocking. A smile curved her lips - she was taking great pleasure in watching the myriad of emotions that played across Hook's face at her refusal to apologize for abandoning him.

"No thanks to you," Hook hissed. "That storm was your doing, wasn't it? You tried to keep me from getting to that portal – _and_ you destroyed my ship."

Cora gave him an indulgent look, the type one would bestow upon a child throwing a temper tantrum, and replied, "If you're a good little boy, I'll buy you a new one."

The pirate captain reacted to the insulting tone predictably, and lunged forward with his hook raised. Cora disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, and he was left clawing at thin air.

She reappeared on the other side of the room.

"You need some patience," she said softly, "or you will never get anything done. Do you really think you can defeat Rumpelstiltskin if you act so rashly?"

"I don't need your advice, or your help!" Hook snapped back.

Cora raised an eyebrow at that statement. "Then why are you here?" she asked.

He faltered for a moment, then dropped his arm to his side. After a slightly longer pause in which he forced himself to regain control over his temper, he said "I heard a rumor that you made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin." Cora said nothing, merely waited, and so he demanded, "Is that true?"

"Yes," she answered.

Hook took a backwards step away from her, shaking his head in disgust. "You're just as bad as Regina," he said with loathing. "Promising revenge and yet not really meaning it."

"Oh, don't act so wounded," Cora retorted. "It isn't as though you've never double-crossed anyone, _pirate_." She walked across the room and resumed her seat on the armchair, and said, "Rumple can be dealt with in time, but I need him out of the way for right now. Let him worry about his plans while I complete mine. Once I have my revenge and Regina by my side, _then_ we can deal with your crocodile."

"I'm not waiting," Hook spat. "I know enough to hurt the Dark One all on my own – I don't need your help."

Cora lifted one eyebrow skeptically. "Is that so?" she questioned. "Well, then… by all means, proceed. But when all your plans come crashing down…" She trailed off with a smug smile and a shrug. "Don't say I did not warn you."

Hook ignored her final warning and marched from the house, his steps loud and angry as he slammed his feet against the floor, his body shaking with rage.

Cora let him leave.

He would fail, she was sure of that. He was a fool to think he could defeat the Dark One on his own, and whatever it was he thought he had learned, it wouldn't be enough. And after he had failed, he would come back to her, desperate for her help. And he would be a useful chess piece to have in this game.

Particularly given that he – and all the other poor fools in this town – had no idea what her end game even was.

* * *

"Get this off of me," Belle demanded, gripping the necklace tightly as she strode into the pawn shop.

Gold looked up in surprise at her entrance, but then his expression hardened as realization flickered over his features.

"Yes," Belle pressed, her tone glacial as she correctly interpreted the look on his face, "I know what it is. I know what you did to it – to _me_. And I don't want it, so take it off."

"I didn't do anything to you, Belle," Gold protested, setting down the object he was holding and reaching for his came. He came around the counter and moved towards her, but Belle took a step backwards and so he stopped.

"You used magic on me!" she said angrily.

"I used magic on the _necklace_," Gold replied quickly. "Not on you, _never_ on you."

The memory of her father had done lingered in the air between them, and they were both silent for a moment, staring at each other.

"Semantics," Belle said finally, dismissing the distinction carelessly. She gazed at him, searching his expression for some sign of remorse, something to show that he regretted taking away her freedom like this. She wanted to believe that he was not this selfish, that he could accept he did not have the right to make her decisions for her.

But there was nothing there, nothing but a carefully blank expression, and that angered her more than the revelation about the necklace had.

"After what my father did, how can you do this to me, too?" she questioned hoarsely, still clutching the necklace.

"I'm not… I didn't…" Gold was momentarily at a loss for words, and then he said almost desperately, but with a hint of impatience in his tone, "I am trying to keep you _safe_."

"Yes," Belle agreed with a dark laugh, "just like my father did when he tried to force me over the town line."

"This isn't the same thing," Gold argued angrily.

"You're right," Belle agreed, "it isn't. Because I thought you had _changed_. My father – well, I knew what he was, what he had always been. He tried to make decisions for me when I was younger, to protect me, and when I left with you…" She sighed and dropped her hand from the necklace, her anger seeping away, replaced now with disappointment. "What he tried to do to me hurt, but it shouldn't have come as a surprise. He didn't change, couldn't change. But I thought you had."

"Belle…"

"I don't want this," Belle said quietly. "And I can't…"

She stopped, struggling to come up with the words. All her emotions towards her father were complicated now – his death had made it hard to think clearly. She hated what he had nearly done to her, but he was her father and he was dead, and her last words to him had been an argument. She would have given anything to be able to take that back, to have one last chance to talk to him, to make him understand that, despite everything, she still loved him.

And yet.

She could not think of that brief cart ride in the mines without a rush of fury and fear nearly overwhelming her. So much of her life had been controlled by other people – her arranged marriage to Gaston, her forced servitude to Rumple, her confinement first in Regina's tower and then later in the hospital… To have finally found herself and her own free will once more, and then have her father try to erase all of it?

What Rumple was doing now wasn't the same thing – but it was close enough.

"I can't believe," she said finally, "that after _everything_, you would do this to me."

"Do what?" Gold snapped back, his irritation finally overpowering his desire to reason with her. His face contorted with frustration and anger as he ground out the words, "All I am trying to do is keep you safe, yet you act as though I have done something horrible. Why can't you just accept the protection?"

"Because I didn't ask for it! You forced it on me," Belle retorted irately, her own frustrating mounting at his inability to understand her feelings on the subject. "How can you not see that what you did was wrong?"

"All I see is you standing in front of me telling me that you want to die!"

The words echoed in the room, and underneath Gold's anger, Belle saw the fear. Real fear - unlike anything she had ever seen from him before. It was quick, a fleeting look in his eyes, a shaking in his voice, and then it was gone. But she had seen it.

And it didn't make any difference.

"I want to _fight_," Belle said, refusing to be put off, "and I want you to fight, too."

Gold shook his head. "Cora will kill you," he said. "Don't you understand that?"

She frowned. She'd been underestimated before, but she'd proven that her wits and her courage were stronger than others gave her credit for.

"I know the danger…"

"No," Gold interrupted, an edge to his voice. He turned away from her dismissively and said, "You don't understand. You pretend you do – all of you. But none of you have any idea what Cora is capable of. Not even Regina."

"Then _explain_ it to us," Belle begged. "Come talk to Mary Margaret and David. _Help_ them."

"I have my own work to do," Gold replied, still not facing her. He walked back to the counter and started sorting through the objects there. "I have to figure out a way to cross the town border. I have to find my son. Both of those tasks will require time and effort."

"And then what?" Belle questioned, her heart slowly sinking at the realization that she wasn't going to get through to him, she wasn't going to change his mind. "When you have your son, but Storybrooke is in ashes? When Cora has destroyed the rest of us? _Then_ what?"

"She won't destroy me, or Baelfire, or you," Gold answered, "and that is enough."

"If you loved me, you wouldn't do this," Belle said, her final plea for him to listen to her.

He turned around and unflinchingly met her gaze. "It is because I love you that I have to do this."

They were both quiet for a moment, neither willing to break the standoff that had occurred. But Belle could see by the look of determination in Gold's eyes that she had lost the argument. He would never be swayed.

The necklace felt heavy against her throat.

She thought back to that day so long ago when he had tossed her out of his dungeon, thrown her out into the world and insisted that he didn't love her – or, rather, that he loved his magic more. She hadn't believed it them, and she didn't believe it now, but her response to him…

_Now you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it. Forever. And all you'll have is an empty heart... and a chipped cup._

That, it seemed, was still true.

"Then you've made your decision," she said softly, her words final, "and I will never forgive you for it."

* * *

Granny watched as Henry flipped through the pages of his fairytale book. She was a little surprised that Regina had dropped him off here – didn't he want to be with Mary Margaret and David? – but she didn't question it. Instead, she had served up hot chocolate and cinnamon and done the best to ignore the way his eyes glazed over and then filled with tears at the reminder of Emma.

His separation from the blonde was heartbreaking on its own, but for Granny, it also served as a reminder of her own torn-asunder family.

She still hadn't been permitted to see Ruby. Her last entreaty had gone to King Charles, who had at least been much more sympathetic to her than Queen Leah or King Stefan. But he had refused her request as well, explaining that the prisoner wasn't allowed any visitors.

Hearing Ruby referred to as _the prisoner_ had made her nearly apoplectic with rage, but her anger did not help her gain access to her granddaughter.

She bustled around the diner, trying to keep herself busy enough to prevent her thoughts from running down a dark path. And yet she could not help but think of Ruby, alone and scared, locked in a cell. Weren't there laws against this? Didn't Ruby get to demand bail or something similar?

But no - those were laws of this land, and nobody seemed to be playing by those rules anymore.

The door to the diner swung open, and Regina entered. Granny gave her a curt nod and watched as Regina ignored her and everyone else and focused solely on Henry. He looked up at her as she approached, and she gave him a smile.

She vehemently disliked and distrusted Regina. It was hard not to, given the amount of pain and suffering the Evil Queen had caused. But it was equally hard to overlook the fact that, if the Evil Queen had not been capable of love, at least Regina was. She might not be any good at it, but she did love Henry.

Granny turned away from the scene and wandered back into her kitchen.

She'd been avoiding spending unnecessary time in the room. It was challenging, of course, because she ran a diner and had to cook the food people ordered, but while in the past she would linger each night to make sure everything in the kitchen was beyond spotless, now she stayed just long enough to ensure that nothing was growing bacteria before closing for the night.

And she studiously avoided the knives with the crescent moons on the handle.

She should not have invited that knight of the Blue Guard into the kitchen. If she hadn't, he never would have seen the knives, and…

And what?

If, as everyone she trusted seemed to believe, Cora was indeed behind Moe French's death, she would have found a way to frame Ruby no matter what. Whether or not that knight had seen the knives would have made no difference.

Granny slammed a hand onto the counter, ignoring the sting on her skin where she made contact with the cool metal.

"Why?" she hissed at the ceiling, wishing Cora was there to hear the furious words. "What did my Ruby ever do to you?"

There was no reply.

She stalked out of the kitchen.

In the diner, Regina was still sitting with Henry. Granny watched them, noting the way Regina leaned forward to peer at Henry's book as they talked.

Maybe Regina would help her break into the sheriff's station. The Mother Superior had been hesitant, concerned that Stefan and Leah would see her actions as a sign she was working against them, and Granny could at least appreciate the concern, even if it irritated her. But what did Regina stand to lose? It wasn't like any of the rulers trusted her anyway, so her actions would hardly disrupt the tentative peace.

And given how frequently Granny had babysat Henry the past couple days, Regina did owe her.

She took a step towards the mother and son.

And stopped.

She wasn't sure what it was, but some sixth sense, something left over from the wolf, made her hesitate. She turned and looked around the diner, scanning everything and everyone quickly, intently. Nothing was out of place, none of the patrons looked like they were going to cause any trouble, and yet…

She closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath, inhaling through her nose.

Some scent was just... wrong.

When Regina had dropped Henry off, she had mentioned that she going to meet Sidney. That had been a little over an hour ago. Wouldn't discussing and debating complicated magic require more than an hour?

Granny had acknowledged Regina when she had entered the diner, but the former mayor had not acknowledged her in return… and Regina had always given her either a polite nod or a frosty glare in the past.

Granny opened her eyes and surreptitiously studied Regina. She was leaning forward, encroaching on Henry's personal space, and something about the way she regarded the boy, something about her body language...

Something was wrong.

She walked forward determinedly, arranging her face into what she hoped was a politely distant smile, the one that she often used when avoiding a confrontation. Henry looked up as she approached and gave her a warm smile, warmer than any he had bestowed on Regina, and Granny smiled in return. But Regina gave her a cool once-over and Granny felt a shiver run down her spine.

Maybe she was paranoid. Maybe she just really didn't like Regina.

Either way, at that moment, she knew she had to get Henry away from this woman.

"Henry, I've got something for you," she said, the lie rolling easily off her tongue, "in the kitchen. A special treat I made. Would you like to come back and get it?"

Henry perked up immediately. "What is it?" he asked eagerly, sliding out of the booth and rising to his feet. His brow furrowed, then he said, "Wait, you're letting me into the kitchen? But only you and Ruby are allowed back there!"

She gave him a fond smile and gentle push towards the swinging door to the kitchen. "Go on," she said, and as Henry scurried away, she turned back to Regina and added, "Don't worry, it won't ruin his appetite for lunch."Regina gave her a cool look and a distracted bit back the frown that was starting to form.

Where was the cold remark, the comment about indulging children or the dangers of sugar and fat, the sharp retort and quick insult?

She turned away from Regina and followed Henry into the kitchen. As she did so, she noticed Archie sitting at the counter reading a newspaper, and she paused at his side and caught his attention with a light tap on the arm.

"I need you to call Regina," she said in a low voice.

Archie responded with a puzzled look and jerked his head towards Regina still sitting in the booth, now flipping through the pages of Henry's book. "She's right there," he said.

"Yes," Granny murmured, more to herself than to Archie, "I really hope she is."

She didn't say any more, and Archie was still clearly puzzled by all of this, but he did not ask any other questions. He pulled his phone from his pocket and started punching numbers into it while at the same time following her into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Henry was looking around eagerly, and Granny felt a twinge of guilt that she didn't have anything to offer him. But before he could question the absence of his supposed treat, before she could come up with anything to say to him, before she could even figure out how to put her suspicions into words, she heard Archie speaking.

"Regina? It's Dr. Hopper. Where are you?"

Henry and Granny both turned to listen to the phone conversation.

Whatever Regina had said in reply had given Archie considerable concern, and he turned wide eyes towards Granny. "You're here, too. At the diner." He paused, listening to the answer, then said, "No, no… no. You were just sitting there with Henry and…"

The rest of his sentence was halted by the sudden appearance of purple smoke that filled the kitchen and coalesced into the form of one very worried woman.

"What do you mean? How am _I_ here with Henry? _Where_ is Henry?" Regina demanded brusquely.

"Mom?"

Henry stepped around Granny and looked up at his mother in complete shock. "But... you were just outside. At the booth. We were talking..." And he started towards her.

Granny caught his arm and pulled him back, hugging him to her side and ignoring the way he looked at her in surprise and confusion. She had no idea what was going on, but until she had some answers, she was not going to let Henry go to _anyone_.To Regina, she asked, "How do we know that you are the real Regina and not the imposter?"

Regina responded with a look of such utter disdain that it immediately removed any doubts the older woman might have had. Aloud, Regina said, "The bug called _me_, remember?" And to prove her point, she held up her phone.

"I don't... but if you are here..." Henry started, bewildered.

"Who is out there?" Archie finished, gesturing towards the wall that separated them from the rest of the diner.

"Cora?" was Granny's suggestion, and judging by the way Archie nodded slowly and Regina's expression hardened, she knew they both agreed with her. It was the only possibility that made any sense - and it was what Regina had been so terrified of all along.

Granny let go of Henry, and Regina immediately engulfed him a tight embrace. He squirmed slightly in her grasp, but hugged her back, and as Regina pressed a kiss into his hair, Granny heard her murmur, "Thank God," underneath her breath.

Then Regina straightened and whirled around to face Granny and Archie, a look of utter fury on her features."How could you let Cora near my son?" she accused. "Your job - the _only_ thing I asked from you - was to keep him safely _away_ from her!"

"We didn't know," Archie said, taking a deliberate step to position himself in between Regina and Granny. He held his hands out in a placating manner, and continued soothingly, "She looked just like you. But as soon as Granny even suspected, she removed Henry from the situation."

Regina should have been grateful for that, Granny thought bitterly, because it was only her wolf-sense and quick thinking that had brought Henry to safety.

Regina continued to glare, clearly not in any way mollified, then looked down at Henry. "That's it," she said, her words clipped, her tone allowing no argument, "we're going home. You're staying indoors today."

"But Mom," Henry whined, "there's nothing to do inside but read and..." He stopped abruptly, mouth falling open. "My book!" he exclaimed, pulling out of Regina's grasp. "I left it out there, with Cora."

And before anyone could stop him, he'd rushed out of the kitchen and into the diner.

Regina and Granny were both directly behind him, and before he could take more than a few steps into the diner, Regina had caught his shoulders and pulled him backwards, towards her.

Granny only spared a brief glance for Regina - noting the frantic look on the woman's features as she held tightly to her son - before turning towards the booth where she expected Cora to be.

But the booth was empty.

Archie came to Granny's side, and the two of them looked around the diner, ignoring the confused glances they were getting from the other patrons. Granny knew they made a strange sight, all four of them having rushed out of the kitchen together and now standing frozen in front of the still swinging kitchen door. But that didn't matter at the moment, and she didn't bother answering anyone's questioning gaze, instead focusing her energy on hunting out any sign of Cora's presence.

But Cora was not in the diner.

And neither was Henry's book.

* * *

"I think we should schedule the trial for as soon as possible," Charles said as he and Leah walked along the sidewalk from their respective cars to the sheriff's station. "The sooner we deal with this murder, the safer everyone will feel. And once people feel safe again, it will be easier to convince them to make whatever changes are necessary."

"We still haven't decided what we are going to do," Leah cautioned, though she nodded in agreement with Charles' assessment.

"I know – and I know that you and I disagree on what is best to be done," Charles answered reasonably. He favored her with a wry smile, and pointed out in a slightly amused tone, "But we agree on the need to try Miss Lucas for the murder of Moe French, so perhaps we should focus on that?"

Leah returned his smile and nodded. "Very well." she said. "It _will_ be good to have this matter disposed of." She hesitated, then added, "Perhaps then we will be able to form better alliances with Snow and James. Once they can no longer doubt Miss Lucas' guilt, they will be more likely to listen to reason."

Charles grimaced. "I hope so," he said, but his words showed his doubt.

Leah felt the same way. She did hope that Snow would see reason soon enough, but the young woman had always been blind to the faults of her allies, subscribing to some ridiculous belief about the power of goodness and love and other trite things. After all, who in their right mind would befriend a _werewolf_?

Leah heaved a sigh. She did believe in the power of Good, she had to admit to that. But she also believed that heroes were heroes and monsters were monsters, and the lines separating one from the other were fairly distinct.

Perhaps it was a youthful indiscretion, and Snow would grow out of it in time. Or perhaps not. Maybe there something wrong with the younger generation of rulers. Maybe they all lacked common sense.

After all, who chose to marry a mermaid, even if that mermaid had decided to become human? Family celebrations must be _very_ complicated.

She pushed open the door to the sheriff station and stepped inside, Charles following her.

"Once the matter is settled," she said grimly, "it will become clearer how we must deal with Snow and James. Of _that_, at least, I am sure."

Charles slanted a worried look at her and she knew he was concerned. He did not see things in quite as black and white terms as she did, perhaps because of his son and daughter-in-law's close relationship with Snow and James. He still tried to see the good in them, tried to believe the best of them. He was too easily swayed, too weak. He needed to take a firm stance on the issue, and he needed to do it quickly, or how could she ever trust him to run the murder trial?

"Leah," Charles said suddenly, catching her arm and bringing her abruptly from her thoughts.

She looked up at him in surprise, and then followed his gaze and inhaled sharply. The inside of the sheriff's station was untouched as it had been the night before, but with one major change.

Ruby Lucas' cell was empty.


End file.
